Alfonso the Ring
by RiseAgainPhoenix
Summary: The LOTR trilogy, seen through the eyes of the most important character---Mr. One Ring himself! (Beware! Ring has a snarky attitude, this is rated for coarse language & maybe slash) Last chapter up!
1. Prologue

A/N: I'm very proud of this story. My best friends and I started writing it after reading the famous/infamous "The Very Secret Diaries" of the LOTR characters, by Cassandra Claire. Very inspiring series of fics. You can read them at http://home.nyu.edu/~amw243/diaries/. This story is based more on the movie(s) than the book(s), because (I think) more people have seen the movie(s) than read the book(s). Brackets are (very) fun.  
  
Disclaimers: I could say that LOTR is mine, except I'd never get away with it because all the other fics have disclaimers saying J.R.R. Tolkein owns the story and characters.  
  
Prologue ~ ~ ~  
  
See, there's this ring. It's a male ring, named Alfonso. He seems to be very popular, especially among humans. I personally don't see why, because that ring has issues. He's got some sort of serious attitude problem, not to mention an ego the size of the Shire. Very narcisstic, too. Thinks way too much of himself, if you ask me. I mean, a 14k hoop of sparkly stuff named 'Alfonso' can't really have a lot to be proud of, right? Yet despite all his faults (and let me assure you---there are *many*) he has an amazing tale to tell. A tale of good vs. evil, a tale of the struggle for power, a tale about finding strength within yourself. A tale of a bunch of bored people who, in desperate need of fun and adventure, made up a mission solely dedicated to the assassination of Al the ring. He's a little pissed about that.  
  
-Let's hear what he has to say.  
  
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Will be continued very soon.with a much longer chapter, of course. This was just a prologue, sort of testing the waters to see readers' reactions. So review. 


	2. The Beginning

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, people. I sure do appreciate it. And, as promised, this chapter is much longer than the prologue, for those of you who were scared that the entire story was gonna be put up in little 50-word installments :P  
  
Disclaimers: I have no connection to the dead body of J.R.R. Tolkein, the alive bodies of his next of kin, or any person involved with any aspect of the production of the books and/or movies. I'm getting no money, some acknowledgement (thanks again for the reviews!), and hardly any recognition. It may seem like I'm getting the bad end of the deal, except I do get to say that I own this fic and I fuckin' love how it's turning out, so there.  
  
Chapter 1: The Beginning ~ ~ ~  
  
Once upon a time, there lived a very macho, tough-guy type sort of man. He was the type who would pride himself on having a dirty and dented suit of armour and a face full of stubble, the type who spits and grunts and lifts random heavy objects just for the sake of looking manly, the type who purposely misses baths and showers in order to look (and smell) rugged.  
  
This strong, masculine, manly man, most manly of all men, was one day struck with a very strong urge to make sparkly jewelry. Ahem. Like most manly men would, he tried to ignore it. But alas for poor Sauron, the urge grew and grew and grew. And grew. So he tried to cover it up with much grunting and clutching of the crotch while standing in manly poses. Yet the urge kept on growing. It got to the point where his throat was really really sore from grunting so much, and his crotch was really really really sore from all the clutching. And so one day, he caved. He just couldn't help it anymore. He made a bunch of pretty rings, and immediately felt better than he had for weeks.  
  
As soon as his head was clear again, though, he realized just how bad it would look for a man of his manliness and stature to be found making slightly effeminate jewelry. So, he rounded up a bunch of people and spent the better part of the day trying to get them to take the rings. He bribed them ("take them and you'll be rich beyond your wildest dreams!"), he lied to them ("take them and I'll be your best friend forever!"), he even threatened them ("a thousand horrible castration curses will fall upon you and all those around you unless you take this damn ring"). Finally, he gave one last attempt. He told them that the rings will give them lots and lots of power to rule over people. That convinced them right quick. And so, he rid himself of the rings.  
  
Unfortunately for him, the urge to make more jewelry struck again, and that was how I was born. He made me in the deepest fires of Mt. Doom, being too cheap to buy a proper anvil and hearth. *And*, the second I solidified, he named me Alfonso. I don't really hold a great love for him. Besides, I don't know why he even bothered, because everyone insists on calling me One Ring, capital "O" capital "R" anyways.  
  
The only thing I really admired about Sauron was that he was one incredible liar. Within a few months of birthing me, he had the whole damn world convinced that I had the power to bestow world domination. Well, I guess it helped that he also happened to be king of everything at the time. But that was purely coincidental. Truth is, I'm just a ring. A damn sexy ring, a very attractive and gorgeous and smart and wonderful ring, mind you, but not magical. Contrary to popular belief, Sauron didn't prey on the mortal desire for power. He preyed on the mortal tendency for laziness. See, everyone wants to rule the Earth, but no one wants to do what it takes. All that dirty work, all that blood, all the fighting and planning and gasping and wheezing, all that exercise. People with asthma or obesity problems would never be able to pull it off. But with a magic ring, all that wheezing and exercising can be skipped.  
  
Funny how people ended up fighting and gasping and wheezing for the non- existent magical ring. Go figure. They could've just attacked Sauron for the throne instead of attacking Sauron for me. Idiots.  
  
Eventually, some scruffy guy with asthma, I think his name was Isildur something or the other, killed Sauron. Sort of. Actually, he poked Sauron with a broken sword, and Mr. Manly Man crumpled like a weakling. Ha. Then, the scruffy dude hacked off the finger I lived on, and my home since birth disintegrated into lumps of coal. Bitch. The evil home-destroyer then tried to murder me in cold blood, but I, being very cunning and talented, managed to talk him out of it. The whole "I can help you take over the world" thing helped, I'll admit. Everyone believed it, and it was because of this lie that I managed to stay alive.  
  
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How was that? Next chapter's coming soon! 


	3. Technically Still the Beginning

A/N: Let me share with you a lesson that I've learnt--- do not post a LOTR fic on the weekend, because that's when everyone does it and no one will notice it, meaning you will get next to no reviews. No, I'm not bitter. I'm not, really. I still got like...three reviews. Meh.  
  
Disclaimers: There is no way that the characters and LOTR trilogy is not not mine. This fictional story, however isn't not mine. Work out the double negatives yourself.  
  
Chapter 2: Technically Still the Beginning ~ ~ ~  
  
I managed to stay alive, lying to this guy, bribing this gal, threatening to magically chew the nose off this person...you know, making myself indispensable. I'm good.  
  
But then some dumb git drops me in a pond and doesn't even notice. Yeah, that was pleasant. This slimy little bi-polar bit of a furless gremlin found me and decided to keep me as a pet in his dank underground cave. Brrr. That was a pretty creepy period of my life. Not that Gollum wasn't nice to me, of course. He was very sweet, very caring, downright smothering. Gawd, was he clingy! Every day, every minute, very second, he'd be petting me and kissing me and calling me by nicknames borne of love. It was all very flattering, but ssooooo not what I needed in a relationship. Way too stifling. After some years, I really needed to get away from him, so I decided to hitch a ride off the next person who passed by.  
  
Who would've thought that no one passes by a weird, slimy little gremlin's dank underground cave?  
  
Several decades later, a bunch of short little men passed through, and I convinced one of them to get me out of there. We had some fun times together, that short little man and I.  
  
Bilbo had a good heart, but a fear of commitment. He wasn't what I needed in a relationship either. I'm sure he didn't mean to make me feel this way, but I wasn't really the love of his life. He was just using me. It was always, "Ring, be quiet," "Ring, make me invisible," "Ring, do this," "Ring, do that," and it got just a tad tiring after a while. That, and the fact that Bilbo was very boring, and---let's be frank, he was damn ugly and a little too hairy, too. Anyhow, all of these reasons drove me to look for a new and different companion.  
  
On Bilbo's birthday, I made him invisible one last time, then sat him down in front of the fire and had a good long talk with him. I gave him the usual shit about how "it's not you, it's me," and some "I think it would be for the best if we both tried something new." I may or may not have even thrown in a "look, you're old and stinky. Let me the fuck go!" Eventually, he saw things my way, wiped his tears away, and set goodbye to me. He set off to that elf place, and left me to pick up my new boy- toy...er, that is, my new *companion*.  
  
I had my eyes set on the little old man's yummy nephew for a while already. With his uncle gone, the pretty hobbit was all mine for the taking. I skillfully persuaded Gandalf the Wizard into helping me coerce the sweet Frodo to bear my children---figuratively speaking, of course. Gandalf did a fantastic job of getting Frodo to take me, even if he did have to pull the good ol' "This ring has the evil power of world domination...It must be destroyed!" ---Waaaaaaaait a second. Excuse me? "It must be destroyed"?!?! Thanks a lot, old geezer. I think he got a bit too caught up in the dramatics there. Frodo took me, but not out of lust or love, or even slight sexual interest. He took me out of a sense of duty---the duty to kill me. Fuck you too, Gandalf.  
  
At least the old jerk-off felt sufficiently guilty afterwards, and tried to make it up to me. He told Frodo to keep me reeeeeeaaaal close, as in touching his skin close. Because, said Gandalf, evil people will be trying to get me. Yeah, right. What the hell for? Most people don't even have the fortune of knowing that my beautiful self exists. I was glad of Gandalf's gesture anyways, because Frodo did indeed keep me reeeeeeaaaal close. Oh yeah. Mmm...the warmth of that soft, creamy skin, the way his voice would vibrate against my outer layer of polish whenever he talked. Sigh. Ahem.  
  
Anyhow, Gandalf sent Frodo and his little love slave, Samwise, off on a happy little trek to some town called Bree. The plan was to meet there, so that the damned wizard could tell them some sort of excuse to get me off the hook for execution ("hey, I did some reading up, and the funniest thing is, it turns out that this ring *won't* destroy us all! Isn't that a bit of luck!") it was all his fault in the first place, getting me into this, and he promised that he'd get me out of it. Too bad it had slipped my mind that Gandalf's a fuckin' liar.  
  
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TBC 


	4. A Bit Past the Beginning

A/N: The updates are getting kinda infrequent, but I have a stupid cold that makes it hard to do anything but sleep. That, and my midterms are coming up. So, please, bear with me. I promise that longer chapters will be put up more regularly once Valentine's Day rolls around. And thank you, dear readers, for staying with the story!  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own a damn thing. Except for all the things I do own, of course, which just makes this disclaimer about as clear as mud. Consider it an IQ test. If you aren't smart enough to sort out what I do own and what I do not own, then you aren't smart enough to understand the fic. Do yourself (and me) a favour and leave.  
  
Chapter 3: A Bit Past the Beginning ~ ~ ~  
  
On the way to Bree, my new love-interest/enemy and his sex slave crashed into two other short little men, and the poor things got dragged along for the ride. I seriously feel ssoooooooo sorry for Merry and Pippin, seeing as how all they wanted was free vegatables, and what they got was a stupid and pointless journey instead.  
  
Before I could voice my brilliant opinion, however, the annoying Nine Ringwraiths showed up in their ragged glory, screaming (silently, for dramatic effect) for my blood. Like, holy shit. Just because I had replaced them as Sauron's favourite plaything, and all those years ago, too. Those guys sure can hold a grudge. The midgets thought the Ringwraiths were after me for my "power", so they kept me safely hidden while they ran away. I wasn't about to complain. All four of them jumped under some huge ass tree root, and the Ringwraiths leaned very close, but missed us. Somehow. As one Ringwraith (I think it was Larry) loomed close, he muttered a long string of profanities and turned to his fellows, calling out "Dammit! Now we have to go tell Sauron that we missed them!" Go tell Sauron? But, but, but Sauron *died*! Right under my ass! Many many years ago! ...Um, didn't he? Crap, I should so have listened to Gandalf when he was prattling on about Sauron to Frodo.  
  
Frodo and his boys ran to some river, and it's our good fortune that a raft just happened to be tied there. We jumped onto it, and the Ringwraiths backed off. Larry's blatant hydrophobia lead me to suspect he'd caught rabies. Rabies would certainly account for all the head-twitching, arm- flailing, and snarling that he does.  
  
On the raft, Frodo explained to Merry and Pippin what Gandalf had told him. I tried to keep my cool---honest, I did! But I couldn't help spazzing a little, screaming "those are lies! All lies, you hear me? ALL LIES!!!!!!!!" because, well, they *were* all lies, excuse me if I lose my cool when people talk about their need to annihilate me. Frodo, damn him, looked at his friends with his frickin' huge doe-eyes and said solemnly, "Did you hear that? The Ring has Voice; such is its power. It can use persuasion so that even the strongest of men cannot but resist its call. We must destroy it for the Shire!" And his little hobbit friends responded with a patriotic "Hurrah!" Weeeeeeeell, I'll just be keeping my mouth shut now, if it's gonna dig me a deeper hole. Lucky thing I decided to keep my mouth shut just then, because that was when Frodo began to explain the whole Sauron thing.  
  
Apparently, Mr. Manly Man wasn't such a weakling after all. Surprise, surprise. He crumpled, but his inner soul didn't. the fact that his inner soul came back to life and manifested itself as a giant flaming eyeball probably says something about his personality, but hey, it could be worse. I, personally, had always imagined his inner soul to be a giant flaming toilet plunger instead. But I digress. Anyhow, now that badass Sauron was (sort of) back, he wanted his pretty jewelry back. I was flattered by his devotion to me, especially since I'd been less than faithful to him. Still, why would he send the Ringwraiths for me? FedEx would have gotten me to him in twice the comfort and half the time. Besides, did he even have a finger anymore? Strange.  
  
That night was proof that surprises don't come alone---they're always accompanied by others. The next surprise was the fact that we actually made it to the other side of the river without drowning. And here I thought the little raft wouldn't stand a chance against all the veggies Pip and Merry brought onboard. We all piled off the deceptively rundown- looking raft, which promptly drifted off to another harbour on the river, no doubt to be magically tied up and waiting for another stupid group on a stupid walk running from stupid Ringwraiths on their stupid black horses. Did I mention that it was raining? Rain makes me crabby.  
  
We trekked along a muddy path to Bree in silence. You think hairy hobbit feet are ugly? You don't know ugly until you see hairy hobbit feet illuminated by the moon, mud squished between the toes, occasionally mushing an innocent little worm that crawled up from the ground to avoid drowning. Now *that* is ugly. Wait, no, I change my mind. The face that loomed over us when we reached the little town we were headed for, the old, wrinkly, wet, bearded, toothless, dripping face of the gatekeeper of Bree, so hideous that his/her gender was indistinguishable...*that* is ugly. My only consolation was that the face and the gates that opened after it questioned us signified our arrival at Bree. Finally, we could go meet Gandalf and get all this kill Al shit sorted out.  
  
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	5. A Bit Further

A/N: I'm baaaaaaack!!! Yay, go me! My midterms are finished, so I can put all my concentration back into the more important things in life--- namely, writing. Expect faster updates and longer chapters from now until final exams. And thank you to all the loyal readers who're still with me; this chapter's for you ^______^  
  
Disclaimers: LOTR is mine. ::Tolkein's battalion of lawyers runs towards yours truly and tramples her into a bloody pulp in a flurry of briefcases and immaculate business attire:: Oookay, so LOTR isn't mine. Well. At least this fic is all mine.  
  
Chapter 4: A Bit Further ~ ~ ~  
  
We spent our first two hours in Bree trying to find the damn "Prancing Pony" inn. I suggested, several times, that it just might be the inn with the *statue of a prancing pony* in front, but would they listen to me? Noooooo. Frodo decided that wandering around in the goddamn rain was preferable to paying heed to the voice of the evil ring. He insisted on asking some locals instead. All the locals we stopped either a) pointed, laughed, and walked on, b) didn't see us and kept right on walking, or c) took one look at the hideous, muddy, slimy, hairy hobbit feet and ran off screaming.  
  
We finally managed to corner a smarmy-looking old hagwoman, and Merry got the directions to the inn out of her by using sexual favours as a bribe. Good ol' Meriadock was friggin' lucky, in that the woman was nearly blind. He got away with making kissing sounds as she snogged with a lamp-post. We left her in the alley, slobbering on the post and murmuring something about "lovely young hobbit lips." If her eyesight had been intact, and had to make out with her...? Gah, nasty images in my head that make Sam's feet look good!  
  
We finally ended up at the same damn inn that had the prancing pony statue. All the hobbits steadfastly ignored me and my "I toooooold you so!!!!!" Frodo got some looks for having a voice come from the depths of his bosom, but Bree is a very well-adjusted and open town, and no one said anything. Okay, everyone backed away from Frodo about three inches, but that was done discreetly, with as little insult as possible. Really. And no words were actually said about it.  
  
Even though we were at least three hours late, Gandalf wasn't there. As Merry and Pippin proceeded to buy most of the bar, I realized with a sinking feeling in my jewelry equivalent of a stomach that Gandalf wasn't coming. Damn. And I couldn't even concentrate all my energy on hating him right then, because I had to keep an eye on some guy in the corner. A real shady character, who had been checking out my Frodo ever since we entered the inn. *My* Frodo. Grrr. Some fat dude with an apron passed by, and we were told that the shady guy's name was Strider. How fitting. A dog's name for a real dog. Yeah, buster, I'm talkin' to you. Keep those eyes on my boy any longer and I'll gouge them out.  
  
Apparently, Frodo didn't share in my dislike of the man, because he had no qualms about going up to a room with him. I mean, really. Who would've thought that everybody's favourite hobbit-boy was such a slut? Landing in private rooms with strangers within minutes of meeting them. Heh. Guess you learn something new every day.  
  
Strider had wide, crazy eyes, scraggly wet-looking hair, and a serious need for a shave. He spoke in a paranoid tone while pacing restlessly around the room, eyes darting around wildly and going on and on about how I was evil. He reeeeeeally reminded me of someone. A certain scraggly wet- looking someone, with a wheezy voice---no. No way. No. Fucking. Way. Strider couldn't be the infamous heir of Asthma Isildur, could he? No way!!! Well, I mean, it wasn't exactly impossible, and it would explain a lot of things (about his appearance, especially) but wouldn't that be too big of a coincidence? Like, the descendent of the man who got all pissy and tried to kill me is now here, getting all pissy and trying to kill me. Ain't fate just the strangest thing.  
  
Of course, trust Gandalf to not be there to protect me from the new generation of Scruffy-Dudes-With-Asthma. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that Gandalf actually *sent* Strider to meet us in his stead. Was that, like, his idea of humour??? Because there is no fucking way that the wizard wasn't aware of the history between the Wheezing Clan and me. Stupid fucking Gandalf and his pointy hat. I'd kill him if my life didn't depend on him.  
  
I was still grumbling and being ignored by Frodo and his new love/idol, Strider, when Sam, Pippin, and Merry burst into the room brandishing...um, assorted junk. Strider immediately slipped into the dumbass "heroic" mode characteristic of his kin. Like anyone really needs a big scary sword to defend themselves from those three. Like anyone actually needs to defend themselves from those three. They're each the size of a hairy lima bean, only less intelligent. Frodo, though, went all dewy-eyed at Strider, like he'd done something absolutely *wonderful*. I could gag. Stupid love- struck hobbit. The guy was about to lop the heads of your friends; shouldn't you be a little less adoring and a little more annoyed? And, as expected, I was told to "Shut up, Evil Ring." I told him to call me Al, but he was too busy making goo-goo eyes at Strider to hear me. And when Wet'n'Wheezy asked him to stay the night in his room, he said yes without a moment's hesitation. What a slut.  
  
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	6. Still Further

A/N: The fates must against me or something. That last chapter was updated right before fanfiction.net went off line to go give birth to fictionPress. Damn. So, yeah, I got next to no reviews, and dear readers, you really should make it up to me (hint hint).  
  
Disclaimers: I woke up this morning, and a sudden thought hit me: I do not own the LOTR Universe. Strange, isn't it. I am seriously convinced that I do not own these characters. How weird.  
  
Chapter 5: Oh look, Still Further ~ ~ ~  
  
Maybe I was a bit too quick to pass judgment on Strider. I mean, yeah, he's a skank who's seriously lacking in the hygiene department, he stole the hobbit I was after, and he's trying to kill me, but other than that, he's pretty cool. First of all, he didn't try to jump Frodo or anything. Actually, he let him sleep in a separate bed. That in itself was impressive---Lord knows I wouldn't have that amount of control if I had a body to jump Frodo with. I told Strider so, and he laughed and "tsk tsk"ed at me.  
  
"Evil Ring, Evil Ring," (for the record, I interrupted him and told him that my name is Alfonso, but he ignored me and went on) "I'm not interested in Frodo. I have a perfectly nice elf waiting for me back home. The only reason I picked Frodo up in some seedy bar and brought him to my room is because it's my duty to help him rid the world of your evil powers. I am definitely not a pervy hobbit-fancier."  
  
Yeah, suuuuuure. I didn't believe him. But that's totally okay, because he didn't believe me when I told him that I don't actually have any evil powers, so we're even. Besides, it's nice to have someone who was willing to talk to me without throwing either blatant accusations or death threats at me every second sentence. Good to finally have a friend on this fucking, godforsaken, pointless---oh, look. The Ringwraiths are in our old hotel room. What are they doing...? Larry's raising his sword...and he's...jabbing. All of them were, actually, over and over again, right where we wouldn't been had we not been in Strider's room instead. Have I mentioned that I really really love Strider?  
  
Damn, I take that back. Everyone knows that the Morning After usually sucks, right? Well, this one would've put most vacuums to shame. After that whole Strider-saved-us-from-a-horrible-death-by-hacking thing, all of the hobbits (and not just Frodo) became completely enamoured with him. Damn the man, why can't *I* do something to impress them??? Unfair! When Strider asked Frodo to come away with him, guess what Frodo said? Did he say "No, you're wet all the time, a little crazy, and I'm with Al"? Noooooooo. He said "YES! YES! YEEEEEEES!!!" with just a touch of desperation.  
  
Which is how we ended up traipsing up and down mountains. Strider's a bit of an outdoorsy type. His idea of fun is to trudge through the wet, wet woods and eat bugs. And I can respect that, really...but not if he has to drag me with him. That's where I draw the line. I joined Pippin in complaining about every aspect of our little walk, but everybody ignored us. :(  
  
That night, Sam, Merry, and Pippin made a fire and cooked some dinner. Yes, Strider, some people actually eat their dinners cooked. Anyhow, Strider's paranoia seems to have rubbed off on Frodo, because he leapt up and stomped the fire out, babbling incoherently about Ringwraiths seeing us. Maaaaaaaaa...why are they still following us? Why would Sauron want me back so badly? Can't he just get Sarumon, his own personal lapdog, to make him an eyebrow ring instead?  
  
::sigh:: Frodo was right. The damn things saw us, and came after us. The hobbits scattered, and where the hell is a wet ranger when you need one? Wasn't he supposed to be keeping an eye on us? Crap. The three little guys crowded around Frodo, protecting me. Aw, how sweet. Too bad they got tossed aside like the beanbags they are. Frodo backed up and cowered against the rocks.  
  
"Unhand the Ring!" Ringwraith #2 commanded majestically. To Frodo, it just sounded like a series of low hisses. He gave #2 a blank look. #2 hissed some more, then tried to jab him with his sword. Frodo put me on, and I dutifully turned him invisible. That didn't really help matters too much, because #2 was fine with settling for making random pokes in our general direction. When one such poke came dangerously close to scratching my shiny finish, I decided to pipe up.  
  
"Yo! Would you leave off with the stabbing? You're gonna take out an eye!"  
  
#2 paused. "Alfonso?"  
  
"Finally! Someone gets my name right! Yes, it's me. What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
"What am *I* doing here? What about you? What are *you* doing with the enemy?!?! Sauron's not too happy that you're frolicking in the woods with the people who're plotting his downfall. He's a little hurt, really; he thought your loyalty ran deeper than that. So he sent us to come get you."  
  
"Well it's not like I want to be here. They kidnapped me! They're taking me to Mordor to kill me! They say they'll be doing the world a favour, getting rid of me."  
  
#2 rolled his non-existent eyes. "Not the old 'power of world domination' thing again."  
  
"Yes! Again! Damned people. So c'mon. Help me out here. Save me from these freaks and bring me back to Sauron. I'm sure he'll reward you with...with...um...a...big, juicy steak...or whatever." Okay, cut me some slack---this was my only chance to save my ass, excuse me if I'm too nervous to come up with a brilliant speech.  
  
"Glue! I want glue! The purple kind, with glitter in it!!!" He actually began to salivate.  
  
"Yes. Well. Huh. Save me, and I'll see to it that Sauron gives you your glue, alright?" he nodded enthusiastically. "On the count of three, I'll make us visible again, and at the same time, you grab me."  
  
#2 got ready.  
  
"One...two..."  
  
"Three!"  
  
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	7. Going to the Elf Place

A/N: Whooo! We are officially over 40 reviews!!! Do you know how happy that makes me? ::noisily kisses each and every one of you:: Muuuaaaaah! A note to biisis- actually, yeah, you can make suggestions, because I'm constantly rewriting chapters; it's all in rough point-form until it's typed and posted. Note to orlyluvr- thank you for your diligent loyalty, but the Assistant wasn't insulting me; she was replying to another reviewer. Note to everyone- THANKS A MILLION!!! I ::heart:: u.  
  
Disclaimers: I am becoming more and more convinced that JRR Tolkien is the owner of the LOTR universe, not me. It's weird, but I can't seem to shake that feeling.  
  
Chapter 6: Going to the Elf Place ~ ~ ~  
  
#2's hand shot out the second the word left my...Look, I'm not very good with ring anatomy, so let's just say mouth, alright? The second I said "Three," he reached out quickly. Too quickly. Those Ringwraiths have always been a little klutzy, and #2's no exception. "Um, oops?" he offered.  
  
"This isn't gonna go over well with the wet ranger dude, is it?" another Ringwraith asked, coming up to us. See, #2, in his haste, had sorta let his hand slip, and now Frodo was a little impaled through the shoulder.  
  
Strider ran over and buried a torch into #2's face. Nope, this most definitely isn't gonna go over well with the wet ranger dude. Not at all. After several minutes of Strider going all pyro on the Ringwraiths, he worked off enough stress to come over and check on our favourite little hobbit muffin. Sam, who seemed to be taking all this as an excuse to put his grubby little hands all over Frodo, grudgingly moved away when Strider shoved at him insistently.  
  
"A Morgul blade!" Strider announced dramatically.  
  
He received four clueless stares and a "I don't really care what it is, it just fuckin' hurts!"  
  
"Right. Um, look, that sword was magical. Got that? Okay. And Frodo's going to be in some serious trouble if we don't haul ass to Rivendell, where the elves can cure him. Do you understand? Is this concept clear to you?" he enunciated with just a touch of a patronizing air. My, my, is our dear Strider already annoyed with the innocent ignorance of the hobbits? Frodo, through his haze of pain, shot him a glare. Strider sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry. Everything's going to be okay, don't worry, blah blah comfort blah. Let's just go to Rivendell, okay?" He is so whipped.  
  
Oh yay, more running through the wet woods, this time in the dark. Only one of us is enjoying this nighttime excursion, and it's not me, Pippin, Merry, Sam, or Frodo. Go figure. Frodo started getting a fever along the way, and I'll admit that even I started to feel a twinge of sympathy for him. I'm still pissed that he blew me off for a damp dirtbag, but the dammit, he's such a cute little bit of hobbit that it's hard to hold a grudge against him.  
  
Strider finally stopped his happy tramping to make an astute observation. "Frodo's sick." Yeah, no shit. Do something about it. "C'mon Sam. Let's go wade through moss and puddles to look for a weed that looks like any other weed." Oooookay, not quite what I had in mind, but if it gets Sam's wandering hands away from Frodo, I won't complain.  
  
I settled down for some rest, and was just about asleep when Strider came back with a weed and a look that said, "I don't know what this is nor what I'm doing, but let's hope for the best, shall we?"  
  
Frodo gave him a scared look in return. Before he could get up and run away, though, a pretty elf lady stepped out from behind Strider and blabbed something in pig-Latin. Frodo blinked. Strider cleared his throat. "Hey, look who I ran into! This is Arwen, one of---er, I mean, my one and only, girlfriend. Funny how things turn out, huh? Now she can take Frodo to Rivendell while we frolic around in the forest some more!" he told us all. The three other hobbits shot each other panicked looks while I thanked my gods that I get to go with Frodo. If I had a tongue, I would've stuck it out at Sam.  
  
I was starting to regret being chained to Frodo's neck, however, when the pig-Latin-speaking elf lady started riding. Screw the wind; that Arwen rides like a fuckin' tornado. I know that Frodo needs emergency medical attention and all, but it's not going to help any if your horse spontaneously combusts under us. I expressed those sentiments out loud, and she muttered "Shut up, evil Ring. This is all your fault in the first place."  
  
"*My* fault?! Sauron's the one who started all this, Isildur's the one who continued it, and you're the one who's riding this horse so hard it's foaming at the mouth. Don't you start blaming me for all your problems!"  
  
Ha. That shut her up. "Yeah? Well, well, well I'm the spoiled daughter of the great lord Elrond! Beat that!"  
  
Oh no you didn't. Did you just start the haughtily-proud game with me? I'll have you know that I am the champion of that game. "I'm the single most cherished possession of Sauron, the strongest power on the face of the planet. Bite me."  
  
"So? I've got more---" The game would have gone on forever if the Ringwraiths didn't show up at that moment.  
  
"Guys! You're alive!" I shouted. Larry grumbled something about Sauron working them like slaves, not letting them have a break even for reason of third-degree burns. Arwen spurred her horse on faster, and dude, how can anything with a pulse run this fast? Anyhow, outrunning the Ringwraiths wasn't really what I wanted to do at the moment, so I discreetly sent the horse some subliminal messages to slow down, hoping that Arwen wouldn't notice. She didn't notice, and neither did the horse. We ran, ran, ran, then soared over a rapid stream gracefully. Da~amn, I'm telling you, this thing is like a SuperHorse, with radioactive super powers or something. The snorting, twitchy, black horses of the Ringwraiths weren't blessed with such powers, and landed not quite over the river. Well, replace "not quite" with "smack dab," and "over" with "in the middle of." Yeah. That's the idea.  
  
The Black Riders were washed away by a wave of water, and I heard Larry sigh, "Ahhh, so soothing on the burns," before they flooded away from sight, which lead me to be suspicious about the accidental nature of the tumble into the stream. I wasn't given too long to dwell on that, though, because I had something else to worry about. We were now at the elf place. The largest known population of people who can't die and want me dead. Life blows.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	8. At the Elf Place

A/N: Sorry about the lengthiness of this author's note, but I gotta get three things clear before we move on to the story. First off, does anyone here actually read my A/N and disclaimers? Just wondering. Show of hands? Second, I know that it's been a loooooong while since I last updated, but life and shit get in the way, what can you do. (I thought I'd be way less busy after midterms...am slowly finding out just how mistaken I am.) And third, the Rivendell part is where the movie starts to really really differ from the book. I'm sort of mixing the two with some original things of my own. If that really bugs anyone, well suck it up princess.  
  
Disclaimers: Pardon me, *four* things before we move on to the story. Apparently, people all around the world agree with me when I say that I do not own the LOTR universe. You learn something new everyday, I guess.  
  
Chapter 7: At the Elf Place ~ ~ ~  
  
So. Um, hi...? Gandalf fixed me with a glare. "What?! You're the one who didn't show up! I should be the one glaring!"  
  
"And how do you explain this?" he made a sweeping gesture towards Frodo, shivering and whimpering on the bed. Along the way, his huge sleeve caught a vase and knocked it over, but we won't go into that.  
  
"Explain what? It's not like I stabbed him. Look at me, see hands? Noooooo. You need hands to stab someone. I don't see why everyone has to blame me for the shit that happens just because I'm Sauron's spoiled little pet. Why don't you go ask your boy Strider to explain it, you evil stander- upper? I'm feeling too betrayed at the moment to talk to you," and I flounced out of the room. What, so I have some powers normal rings don't have. So? They're not *evil* powers.  
  
The second we set foot in Rivendell, grabby elf hands felt me up while they stripped Frodo. Sheesh. I mean, I understand that elves have needs too, and it must be hard to go without some action for so long (some rule Lord Elrond made up about how if elves can't die, maybe they should lay off sex so they don't overpopulate and eat themselves to extinction), but to jump any foreigner the nanosecond he comes in? That's just a little needy there. And then Gandalf shows up from god knows where, looking all righteous with his elf friends and shooing me out of the room, saying he has important stuff to attend to. He doesn't show up to save my life, then kicks me out because I'd get in the way of him saving someone else's life, and he doesn't expect me to be pissed?  
  
So I go off like he asked, figuring I'll go kill him after he heals Frodo, when I roll into a scene that'll be forever burned into my brain. Like one of those painful brands dungeons use to torture their prisoners. Except more painful. I walked into Strider fornicating with some elf.  
  
"Er..."  
  
"Oh! Alfonso! Um, yeah, here, let me get some pants on. Okay. This is Legolas, youngest prince of Mirkwood and my boyfriend. Legolas, this is the Evil Ring that will most definitely not tell Arwen about our relationship."  
  
The blond studmuffin shifted to get a better view of me. He squinted. "Are you sure, sweetie? Because that's a really small ring. How can someone that small be the key to the end of the world?"  
  
EXACTLY!!! "Dude, that's what I've been telling all of 'em. I like you already, elfboy."  
  
Strider frowned ominously at his elf. "But that is where you are wrong, my love. The powers of this ring stretch beyond its size. It can use its Voice (note the capital "v") to persuade you to do things you never thought you would do. It will be the downfall of man and elf alike. It must be destroyed."  
  
See, this is the kind of shit that keeps being circulated. And given a choice between believing his gorgeous wet lover and a sparkly little hoop, Legolas stays true to his dick and not to his brain. Can't say I blame him, though, because he's probably not used to relying on his brain. Very pretty, but not all that bright, that elf.  
  
Stupid world, always against me. Damn, I sound like a really bad punk- angst song. Crap. I rolled outside and wandered in some garden somewhere. No, I did not appreciate all the gasping and pointing I received from those damn prissy elves. Are any of them *not* naturally blond? God. When I cleared my head enough, I went back to check on Frodo only to have Gandalf try and pin everything on me. Go figure. None of the fucking things that happen in this shithole they call MiddleEarth is my fault. Ever. Well, I mean, I sometimes help some stuff along, but I never actually start anything. Everything just ends up looking like it's my fault because everyone's damn paranoid. Sauron's not good enough at magic to actually give me those powers, okay? You think he ever paid attention to his lessons? If he did, he wouldn't be reduced to the burning eyeball he is now.  
  
So, yeah. I flounced out of the room in a huff, and for the love of! Not again! The second time today! "You two are the horniest slut-puppies I've ever seen, and I have been alive for a reeeeeeeeaaal long time, so that's saying something."  
  
"Hey, Estel's been gone for a while! I missed him!" Legolas defended with a little pout. And hot damn if it's not a nice pout. But---  
  
"Estel?"  
  
"My other name. Long story. I'll tell it to you someday, if you'll just leave us for an hour."  
  
Don't ask, don't tell.  
  
All this fucking is making me feel lonely and unloved. So much so that I almost began to miss Gollum's petting. Needless to say, all that lonely- and-unlovedness kept me up far into the night. I made the mistake of wandering outside and (you'd think I'd start learning by now) walked into. Um. Yeah.  
  
"Strider? Do you sleep?"  
  
"Oh! Evil Ring! Go away, we're busy."  
  
"Shut up, Arwen, I wasn't talking to you."  
  
Strider rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ring, I do sleep. Every now and then. When I'm not busy with Le---um, lovely Arwen here."  
  
Arwen shot him a suspicious glare. "Aragorn? We need to talk. Make the Evil Ring go away."  
  
"Aragorn?"  
  
"Another name of mine. Don't even start. Just go, and I'll explain everything in the morning, okay?"  
  
"Sure." Mm-hmm. I left the pagoda or whatever it was, and hid behind a tree. Like I was gonna miss this.  
  
"Aragorn," Arwen started once she was sure I'd left (there's times being the size of a nickel really pays off) "You seem to like Legolas more than me. Is there a particular reason for that? Anything you'd like to talk about?"  
  
"Um...no," he said convincingly, scuffing his toe on the ground and not meeting Arwen's eyes to emphasize his point.  
  
"Because you know that I've given you my heart and soul, right? That I'm willing to die an icky death the way all mortals do, just to be a queen someday. And that I'll be with you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever. Ever since my dad practically adopted you when you were little, you've been the one I loved most. Besides myself and my dad and my best friend and my pet rock. But you're up there. And to show you just how devoted I am, take this necklace as a symbol of my immortal heart---I'm turning it over to you."  
  
Man, that's disturbing. Why can't Strider or whatever he calls himself stick to people of his own species? First hobbits, then elves. What's next? Wait, don't answer that. And Elrond adopted him, too? Eww...that would mean he was banging his sister just now! Nasty!  
  
"I cannot accept this gift."  
  
That's right, you tell her.  
  
"My heart is mine to give away," she insisted, shoving the necklace into his face. He cringed back to avoid getting an eyeball poinked out.  
  
Lady. That was a rejection, okay? Get over it and find someone of your species who isn't your brother.  
  
Strider grudgingly accepted the necklace, but said, "Look, don't be surprised if things between us aren't the same from now on. I'll keep this thing as a sign of friendship, but nothing more."  
  
Arwen just smiled sweetly (are elves ever *not* pretty???) and tried to kiss him. He ran away in the direction of Legolas's room, muttering something about "getting a pretty penny when I pawn this baby."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	9. Right Before the Council Thingy

A/N: I swear, it's like a law of nature or something. Every time I get around to updating, fanfiction.net decides to go down. Damn. But I won't complain, because, get this, WE HAVE OVER 50 REVIEWS!!!!!!!! Y'know, not to brag or anything.  
  
Disclaimers: ::singsong voice:: I don't oo~oo~own LOTR, dooh dah dooh dah, I don't oo~oo~own LOTR, dooh dooh dooh dah daaaaay.  
  
Chapter 8: Right Before the Council Thingy ~ ~ ~  
  
A few more days, maybe a week or two, passed by, and not a thing happened. Well, Aragorn/Strider shagged like a bunny, but I got so used to walking in on him that even *that* became same old, same old. When it became pretty clear that Frodo wasn't going to die, I began to seek out revenge on Gandalf.  
  
One night, I ran into a scruffy-looking human, very much like Strider in all respects but two: he was dry, and he had his pants on.  
  
"Hi, Evil Ring. I heard from the ol' elf grapevine that you're looking for someone to do a number on that Gandalf."  
  
"Er...well, yeah. But I never considered hiring a hit-man for it..."  
  
"But I'm your man! I, Boromir of Gondor, can dispose of that pesky wizard for you, free of charge."  
  
Huh. It's one of them Gondor freaks. "That's very gracious of you, Boromir......so, what's the catch?"  
  
Boromir shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Out of the goodness of my heart, happy to provide a service, that sort of thing."  
  
"You wanna rule the world, don't you?" Rhetorical question, really.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
I thought so. "Look. Listen very closely, because I'm only telling you once. I do not possess *anything* that will help you rule the world, okay? Nothing. At. All."  
  
"I don't believe you, because if that were true, Elrond wouldn't have called a meeting for the representatives of all the Free Peoples," Boromir insisted annoyingly.  
  
"Whatthefuck???"  
  
"Yeah, that's right. We're going to discuss how to destroy you, but if you side with me, I promise you'll not come to harm."  
  
"You guys call yourselves the 'Free Peoples'?!?!"  
  
Boromir gave me a weird raising-of-the-eyebrows-sideways-glance-impatient- glare look that seemed to look kind of painful. "Of all the important things to pick out of my sentence..."  
  
"But it's so cheesy!"  
  
"The point is, your only hope is to strike a deal with me," he said with a waggle of his bushy eyebrows.  
  
"Ew. No, thank you. I'd rather risk it."  
  
"Risk what?" a high, silvery voice asked. Oh look, Legolas has managed to stumble out of his bedroom long enough to join us. Surprise, surprise.  
  
"Risk whatever you decide to do with me at that meeting Elrond planned," I answered.  
  
"You weren't supposed to know about that," Legolas shot Boromir a pointed look. Boromir mouthed "fuck you" at him, and he stuck out his tongue in retaliation. "We thought you'd try to run away if you found out," he continued.  
  
"Nah, I'll stay and risk it. Rivendell's pampered me too much---I'm too fat and lazy to run away. Besides---" well, no one's listening to me anymore. Everyone was too busy engaged in a catfight to. Boromir was sticking up both middle fingers at Legolas, who was making faces back at him. This exchange probably could've gone on for a few more days if Strider's voice hadn't floated out from a room high above. "Hunnybunny? What's taking you so long?"  
  
And just like that, Legolas disappeared. Damn lovebirds. Before Boromir could resume begging me to *pretty please* make him king of the world, Gandalf came around. I pounced on him with all the growling fury of a ring scorned.  
  
"Al! Calm down! Alfonso! Christ, get off me you little rabid Chihuahua of a trinket. Ow! Watch the beard! What is wrong with you?"  
  
"What's wrong with me?! What the fuck is wrong with you? You abandon me to the wolves and expect me to be perfectly okay with that?!?!?! Do you really? Well, I'm not okay with it, and I want you to DIIIIEEEE!!!"  
  
"Dammit, Ring! Stop it! If you kill me, there will be no one else for a 100 000 000 miles who believes in your inability to dominate the world."  
  
That settled me down a little. I detached myself from Gandalf and growled, "Watch it, old man. It's not an *inability* to dominate the world, I just don't want to make others do it."  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Frodo's okay now, so if you'll reacquaint yourself with that chain around his neck, we can get on to that meeting you've no doubt heard about," Gandalf muttered, smoothing the wrinkles of his, um, whatever the hell he calls that dirty assortment of hand-me-down rags.  
  
Gandalf has such a knack for making something as sexy as living on Frodo's porcelain throat sound as undesirable as living in Strider's soggy hair.  
  
Boromir looked at Gandalf, shocked, and said, "You don't believe in the fact that the Ring has powers of pure evil?"  
  
Heh, let's see you get yourself out of this one. Gandalf shuffled from foot to foot. "Oh, uh, of course I believe it, I just don't, that's all. Yeah. Why don't you just run along to your meeting?"  
  
Boromir gave him another one of those weird looks that involved lots of painful-looking eyebrow movement, and stalked off. I tried to emulate the look, but the whole "I'm a ring, I don't have eyebrows" deal limited my success. Gandalf had left already, anyway, so it didn't matter. I went to Frodo's room and walked into...um, gee. I always had an idea that Sam fancied Frodo, but is he really trying to kiss him? Poor, clueless Sam. Frodo was basically ignoring his affectionate attempts, swatting him away and saying, "Not now, Sam, I'm busy looking for the Ring." Haha. Sam looks so crushed.  
  
"Ah! There you are! I trust you haven't gotten yourself into too much trouble?" he asked while slipping me back onto that chain I'm starting to think of as home. I began telling him of Strider's happy adventures, but he interrupted me wryly. "Trust me, I know. Legolas's room wasn't too far from this one, and we could hear the non-stop banging at any given time."  
  
Nice to know. Frodo and I left Sam in the room, because the meeting was apparently for Very Special Invited Guests only. Ha on Sam. We made our way to yet another gazebo (is it some sort of elvish fetish, these gazebos?), where Elrond's Very Special and Impressive Council sat waiting for us. Damn, I'm starting to get into these people's habit of capitalizing Everything.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	10. The Council Thingy

A/N: Yay! This is my favourite chapter of this fic, and I've been excited about posting it for at least two weeks coming. Dude, I should get out more. Anyhow, hope you like it as much as I do.  
  
Disclaimers: Hello. I am a lowly fic writer. I am not of legal age, own neither a house nor a car, and hold a minimum wage job. I receive no payment or special imbursement for writing this. Presented with these facts, would you assume that I own LOTR? I think not.  
  
Chapter 9: The Council Thingy ~ ~ ~  
  
Frodo and I arrived at the meeting, and damned if I've ever seen so many pretty blonds in one place before. Man! And ugh.what the hell are those things? With the chunky braids and huge noses and---are they dwarves? Or dead skunks?  
  
"Silence!" Elrond commanded impressively. That tiara he was wearing, I could've sworn I'd seen that before. Oh that's right, Arwen was wearing it last night. Do you think Elrond borrowed hers, or do they have a matching father-daughter set or something?  
  
"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo Baggins."  
  
Oh no. No! You are not putting me on display so that all those dead skunks with sharp weapons can leap at me! No! Nonononononononono!!! Pretty please don't leave me here! Dammit. He left me on a pedestal in the middle of the meeting. I could here the dwarves licking their lips and sharpening their daggers already. Stupid Frodo, no sense of protection whatsoever.  
  
No sooner had Frodo returned to his seat than Boromir stands up, with his brilliant plan of using me to win the war against Sauron. Gandalf pointed out that I was on Sauron's side. Everyone acknowledged him, nodded and told him it was a very good point. I pointed out that I didn't have the power to win the damn war. Everyone ignored me. Well, excuuu~uuuuuse me, but I thought my point was better than Gandalf's.  
  
"Our people are dying, starving, uneducated, and poor. That really has more to do with bad governing than Sauron, but we can blame it on the eyeball and dominate the world at the same time if we use the ring! Think about the power!"  
  
Someone, anyone, please get it through to Boromir that I lack the ability to do that! I could try, certainly, but I'd just end up straining something and failing. Please make him shut the fuck up! I think Aragorn/Strider took pity on me, because he spoke up. "No one can use the Ring," said he. Exactly! "It is too dangerous. It will take over your mind, take over your soul, and make you do unspeakable things. It will control you in every way. The Evil is too great for anyone to bear," he continued. Waaaaaaaait a minute. No I won't! Dammit! Why is everyone so hellbent on making me look bad?  
  
Boromir scoffed. "What would some scruffy wet ranger know anything about anything?"  
  
Oooooh...bad move on Gondor guy's part. I wouldn't insult the ranger when his boyfriend looks cranky.  
  
"Shut the fuck up! Aragorn isn't wet! It's just an optical illusion! He looks ten times better than you could ever hope to, and plus he's next in line to the throne! Will you ever be on the throne? Noooooooooo!!! NEVER! All you'll ever get to do is blow that stupid horn, so in your face, Boromir!" Legolas is usually a very calm person, but he's also capable of expressing himself in sudden streams of boiling hatred. Not that his immediate defense of Aragorn wasn't cute...it's just that everyone started getting kinda nervous when he began to hiss and spit and swear in seventeen different languages.  
  
"Why don't you sit down and take a deep breath, Legolas?" Aragorn said gently---or warily, you couldn't really tell. Legolas sat back down and smiled serenely, as though nothing had happened.  
  
"Um...sorry?" Boromir said to Aragorn, more out of fear than a genuine need to apologize. "So, as I was saying, use the Ring to defeat Sauron, and then get lots of power."  
  
No! No deal! You're not using me, and that's final.  
  
"We cannot us the Ring, for it is too dangerous," Elrond decided, quite rightly I may add. "It must be destroyed."  
  
What?!?! I change my mind! Usemeusemeusemeusemeuseme!!! USE ME!!!  
  
Boromir seemed to be nearly as pissed as I was over the decision. "We're going to go and just waste an opportunity to rule the world? No way! And we're going to have to get into Mordor to do it? Is that even possible! The place looks like a victim of numerous and daily nuclear bombings, complete with rubble, fire, and animals that look like they've been exposed to too much radiation. And even if we got to it, we'd never get in, because now that Sauron's nothing but an eyeball, he's all-seeing. He'd spot us from a mile away."  
  
Aren't we paranoid today...  
  
Legolas stood up again, ready to go for round two. Did he not get laid last night or something? So much excess energy! "Were you not listening to Elrond? The Ring *must* be destroyed!"  
  
Whoa, hey, fellas. "Must" is such a strong word. Let's rethink this. Let's not destroy me. Legolas? Please?  
  
"I'm sorry, dear Ring, but you must die to make the world peaceful once more. At least your death will have meaning." Aww...he's so nice. Too bad he's entertaining the idea of KILLING ME.  
  
"And who is going to do this task? You?" a dwarf asked.  
  
"Maybe not me personally...I am not the most responsible person for the job. The only reason I am even at this meeting is because Daddy wanted me out of his way. He does not truly believe I will accomplish anything useful. However, another elf would be able to do the task." (of killing me, I might add. Are any of you people disturbed by the fact that you're discussing my murder in front of my face?!?!)  
  
"I will die before I see the Ring in the dirty hands of elves!" another dwarf yelled. Oh boy. A dozen blond heads snapped up at that comment. Can we say "bar fight"?  
  
"What did you just say?!?!?!" "You crawl in the dirt, and you call us dirty?" "How dare you insult this perfect specimen! I have abs of steel!" "Hey, I'm prettier than you!"  
  
Aragorn leapt in. "Deep breaths, people. Deeeeep breaths."  
  
"Shut up, wet ranger!" the second dwarf yelled. Um, hello...did we not learn a lesson earlier on? Did we not witness the vitriol Legolas is capable of? Do we really need to provoke him?  
  
"He is neither wet nor a mere ranger, you ugly little earthdigger. You owe him your allegiance!"  
  
"I owe him nothing, blondie!"  
  
"You wanna go, bitch?"  
  
In-ter-est-ing. Tall, slender, graceful Legolas, attempting to give a dead skunk with an axe a noogie. Aragorn let them fight, until the dwarf started retaliating. Then, he said, "Gimli! Legolas! Stop it! We're all grown-ups here---let's talk this out like sensible adults."  
  
They broke apart, with some assistance and prying. Legolas made one last growly attempt to bite Gimli, then let Aragorn pull him off. At this rate, I'm not so worried about my life anymore. Chances are, they'll end up killing each other before they kill me.  
  
Frodo came forward, inching sideways away from Legolas. "Um...if you guys are going to have huge brawls over this, why not just let me take the Ring?" Yes! Say yes! If you're gonna kill me, let me spend my last days on the neck I've grown comfortable on! Please! I'd be giving puppydog eyes if I could.  
  
Elrond rubbed his temples. "Fine, whatever. Go get rid of the Ring, young Frodo, and good luck."  
  
"You'd better not be leaving me to die, motherfucker," I snarled at Gandalf rather subtly.  
  
He sighed. "I will help you on your journey, Frodo."  
  
Boromir saw his chance to have at me some more and jumped in. "Me too!" No, goddammit, get away from me! What are you, a stalker?  
  
Aragorn and Legolas communicated with their goo goo eyes like the annoying lovebirds they are, and both decided to join us. They squeezed in to stand between Boromir and me, bless them. Not to be left out, Gimli joined, making some sort of excuse about not trusting the elf to cover for his sheep-like behavior of mindless conformity.  
  
And from out of nowhere, the three other hobbits came running out and insisted on joining. Now Merry and Pippin I don't mind, but Sam? No. Just to spite me, though, Elrond decided that Sam could most definitely go with us. ::sigh::  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	11. Almost Heading Out

A/N: ::sigh:: Hardly anyone reviewed my favourite chapter. If you're gonna slack, I will too---that's why this one's so short. Because you're not reviewing. But that's okay, y'know, because I'm doing this for my enjoyment, not for reviews. Really. It's just...::sob:: PLEASE!!!!! Give me the reviews I so crave!  
  
Disclaimers: ::sniffle:: So, um, yeah. I'm feeling very insecure at the moment. Please don't sue me ::pout::  
  
Chapter 10: Almost (but not quite) Heading Out ~ ~ ~  
  
Gandalf turned to the newly made Fellowship and gravely announced, "So it is decided. Frodo shall bear this burden for the good of all."  
  
Hey, fuck you. I'm not a 'burden.' I'll have you know that Frodo should feel blessed just to be able to hold me.  
  
Frodo sighed deeply. "This burden will be a difficult responsibility, but I will do it for the Shire."  
  
Yeah, and fuck you too. Nobody's ever on *my* side.  
  
...  
  
Well?!?! Isn't anyone gonna comfort me?!?!?!  
  
Legolas nudged Frodo sharply. "Ow! Um, I mean, I will be proud to bear the Ring, honoured that I have the chance so few do."  
  
"Well if you don't want it, I'll bear it instead." Boromir, of course, horny bastard, always jumping at any opportunity to get his hands on me. All over me. Ugh. At least Aragorn (or Strider, or Estel, or whatever he's called) and Legolas are partly on my side every now and then. Like now, when Legolas gave Boromir that haughty and disapproving glare elves are so talented at, and Aragorn whacked him upside the head for even thinking of taking me.  
  
All of a sudden, a squealing mass of white silk hurled itself into Aragorn's arms and promptly proceeded to permanently attach itself to his tunic. It was Arwen. "Oh, Aragorn, Elessar, the Elfstone, son of Arathorn, son of Isildur, don't leave, my love!"  
  
Just *how* many names do you have??? Aragorn shot me a dirty look, then gingerly tried to shake the elf off. "Arwen, please. Let go. You're not even supposed to know I'm leaving. This was a private meeting."  
  
"Oh, but my love for you was too great, so I followed you here, then hid in the bushes to listen in." Aragorn groaned. Ha, trust the loser to pick the only 500 year old girl in the world to still exhibit distinctly teenybopper-like tendencies to stalk people. "Listen to me, Arwen. I have to leave, and you have to let go, okay? Seriously. You're cutting off my circulation. Hey, I'll be needing these arms later on!"  
  
"But you can't just leave me here! Take me with you! Let me spend all my waking hours kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kis--"  
  
Around here, Legolas started pouting.  
  
"sing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you a--"  
  
Around here, his bottom lip began to tremble.  
  
"nd kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissing you and kissi--"  
  
Just when it looked like he was about to cry, Aragorn managed to wrestle an arm from Arwen's death grip. He quickly tossed her into the bushes from whence she came, and wrapped Legolas up in his arms. You can guess what happened next. All of the meeting-goers quickly and quietly left.  
  
Amid the clothes being thrown about and the ecstatic moans, Frodo managed to catch his uncle Bilbo signaling to him. Dammit. Not his uncle Bilbo! Although we parted on friendly terms, I don't really like to see any of my ex's once we've stopped being involved. Everything's just so awkward, y'know? Anyhow, Bilbo led Frodo to a room far from the courtyard/gazebo type thing we were in (but not far enough---bet you'd never guess that elf was a screamer).  
  
Bilbo solemnly turned to his nephew. "Frodo, I realize that you are now going on a journey with a task now, much like I did many years ago. Back then, Gandalf was also there to guide me. He is a wise, wise man, but you must learn to never, *ever* listen to a damn thing he says."  
  
Man! Gandalf was the one who forced Bilbo along on his quest? And now he's got Frodo going, too? I'm surprised hobbits don't run screaming from the room whenever Gandalf's around.  
  
"Take this armour. It will be your best friend. Wear it at all times, especially when you're crossing water. Hopefully, it'll drag you down and drown you, thereby saving you from the horrible experiences that lay ahead. Especially if that horny bastard, Boromir, is going."  
  
Frodo listened soundly to this wise advice and nodded, although he did give Bilbo a bit of a sideways look. He took the pretty pretty shiny armour, put it on, and went to find the rest of his Fellowship. It was resolved that we would set out bright and early the next morning. Which means one of us will have to get up at 3 am to knock on Legolas's door, seeing as it'll take at least two hours of wheedling and pleading to get Aragorn and his damn elf out of bed.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	12. The Beginning of a Long and Pointless Wa...

A/N: Is that what I need to do to get reviews? Beg? Do I only get reviews when I cry and plead? Have I no dignity? Why is everything a question? Can I stop? Okay. But, yeah, y'all only review when I beseech you in the most pitiful way imaginable---otherwise, you just shrug and don't give me feedback. You're mean. But I love you anyways.  
  
Disclaimers: So, you think this is true. You think that elves and talking rings and dwarves and animated flaming eyeballs and whatnot really *do* exist, and are running around secretly, and I own them. Okay then. Time for your meds now.  
  
Chapter 11: The Beginning of a Long and Pointless Walk ~ ~ ~  
  
Before we left, Bilbo also gave Frodo a sword named after that blond British singer...you know, the old one who used to sing for The Police before going off and being huge all by himself? Whatsisname, um...oh yeah! Sting. Yeah. So now Frodo has a sword that glows in the dark and is named after a late-eighties popstar. Which isn't actually so bad, I guess, considering how Aragorn lovingly names all his swords, and I've heard Gandalf call his pointy hat "Carmelita."  
  
Boromir drew the short straw and had the unpleasant task prying Legolas and Aragorn out of their bed. The horny bastard probably videotaped them. We managed to start off without too much of a hassle, though---no embarrassing melodramatics or injuries. There was a bit of feather-ruffling over the order we would walk in, though. Gandalf just *had* to be the leader, and neither Boromir nor Gimli liked that too much. Aragorn didn't want Boromir walking behind his elf, since he figured (quite correctly) the human would perv on that fine piece of elvish ass. Similarly, Pippin and Merry suspected Sam might perv on Frodo, and the little pony named Bill begged and pleaded to not be the last in line. I suggested that we avoid confrontation by scrapping the line formation. Did anyone listen? Hmmmph. Why do I still bother to voice my brilliant ideas, when no one listens? Oh, I know---because if it weren't for me, we wouldn't even *have* ideas. Stupid Fellowship.  
  
Eventually, everything was sorted out, and we went on our merry way. Apparently, we were to travel for forty days until we hit the Misty Mountains. That's what the maps say. But seeing as it took us a day just to get going, I figured "travel for 20000000000000000 days until we kill each other" is a more accurate description.  
  
We wandered up a bunch of hills, and down a bunch of hills. Up some more hills, and down more hills. Around some hills, and through some bushes. Up more hills. Down more hills. Through some puddles, and up yet another hill. I was willing to bet a body part that we were lost, but Mr. Outdoorsy Aragorn was just having the time of his life. Gawd, I hate him. Mr. Fuckin' "look at me! I can walk for miles without breaking a sweat!" Strider, the fuckin' "watch my hair stay wet, even though you're all dry and the Sun would've dried it!" Elfstone. And his damn elf, flitting and nancing around without the slightest care, because he's an elf, and elves don't need water or food or sleep---they just need their annoying Ranger boyfriends to be happy, and they're complete. Excuse me while I gag.  
  
At least my Fellowship (that's right, "Fellowship of the Ring"...as in, *my* Fellowship---I own it) is a group of people who can't get along, and are therefore muchly entertaining. It's like having one of those reality TV shows live and uncensored in front of your eyes 24/7. Non-stop. Alright, now that I think about it, it's kinda on the annoying side, but I digress. The point is, all sorts of interesting conflicts and alliances seem to be developing on a daily basis. Okay, well, to be perfectly honest, the conflicts-to-alliance ratio is like 762-to-1, but hey, more fights equals more fun. Really.  
  
Take Gimli, for example. The skunk is like *this close* to lynching Legolas in his sleep. Joke's on him, though, because really, do Legolas and Aragorn ever sleep?  
  
And then there's Sam. He has got it for Frodo so bad, but Frodo's like all business now. Very serious, "bearer of the Ring," no time for play, must carry burden (I'm not, dammit!). Sam had a very slim chance before, but now no one can get at Frodo. So sexual frustration combine with the plain fact that he's a jerk, and what do you get? Something very hard to live with. Somebody is going to kill him quietly at any given moment now.  
  
And Boromir? Don't even get me started on him. What a loser. He's still hung up on me---I mean, I can understand why, because everyone wants me, but still... And he's always picking fights with everyone but Pippin and Merry. I'd watch out if I were them, because good ol' Boromir seems to have a little thing for them. ... Ew...  
  
Gandalf held himself quietly removed from all the conflicts at first, but it's starting to become apparent that he's just a bitter old man. He's jealous of Legolas's looks and Aragorn's ::ahem:: *stamina*. He wants his beard to curl like Gimli's. He wants to get closer to Frodo, but Sam's already there. He wants to have a Horn like Boromir's. He really really wants Merry and Pippin to shut the hell up.  
  
So yes, things are turning out to be mighty interesting indeed. No wonder Lord Elrond doesn't have much faith in the Fellowship's success. He's already got everything set to send all his children and furniture and pretty purple dresses and anything else he holds dear to some foreign land in case my Fellowship fails. To kill me, by the way. Can't let you forget that. ::sigh::  
  
After several weeks of *absolutely pointless wandering,* we climbed onto a rocky hill slightly bigger than all the other hills we'd climbed. The mountains on the horizon were suddenly not on the horizon, but much, much closer. Those had better be the Misty Mountains we're aiming for. Anyhow, we climbed onto this one hill that's a tad higher than the others, and Aragorn happily announces that this is where we will set up camp tonight. And sleep by an open fire under the starry sky, on the cold hard ground with bugs crawling up our asses. Whee, fun. Legolas bounced off to collect firewood, and Aragorn went with him. They won't be back for a while. Sam rolled out his and Frodo's bed, no doubt wishing they were sharing the same bed. Gimli went off to sulk about the fact that Legolas is still alive, Gandalf went off to smoke, and Boromir talked Pippin and Merry into practicing swords with him.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	13. Happenings on Top of the Big Hill

A/N: Okay, I've never done this before, and it's a complete shot in the dark, but I'd like to give a big ol' shout-out to the father of my friend, F-Y T. He's supposedly reading this, so if you are, Mr. T, Hi!!! Glad to know you're enjoying my story. Please review.  
  
Disclaimers: Um, okay, like, I so totally, like, don't own LOTR. Like, this totally, like, smart guy called, like, uh, J.R.R. Tolkein like came up with the idea and, like, characters, and, like, everything else. So, like, don't, like, sue me or anything, because I, like, am completely, like, totally harmless. (You wanna know something sad? There actually are people who speak like that)  
  
Chapter 12: Happenings on Top of the Big Hill ~ ~ ~  
  
Half and hour later, Legolas and Aragorn appeared with enough wood to excuse their lengthy absence, but everyone knew what they'd been up to anyway. Legolas looked perfect and glowing, of course, not a shimmery blond hair out of place. Damn him. But Aragorn's appearance was...more telling. Man. I mean, even *he* doesn't normally have that many mud stains on him. And um, wow, was he limping? Huh.  
  
Legolas flitted over to go sit on a rock that was relatively close to Gimli. Gimli immediately took personal offense to that, and said something gruffly. You can probably guess the rest. Aragorn looked on with concern, making sure that his elfboy-toy wouldn't tumble off the rocks during his enthusiastic attempts to bash Gimli's ugly face in. When it became apparent that the only one in any danger was Gimli, Aragorn turned away and came to help out with the fire.  
  
"C'mon Pippin! Harder! Yes, that's it!"  
  
Grunting.  
  
"Unh! Faster, now. Yes!"  
  
Ummm...okay...Boromir is either a very bad sword instructor, of he's having sex with the hobbits. Shocked silence around the fire. "Why don't I...go...check that out?" Aragorn suggested reluctantly. Ahhh, Strider, ever the hero; willing to sacrifice himself for the rest of the team.  
  
"Yes, go," Sam shoved him towards the direction of Boromir and the hobbits.  
  
He cautiously walked closer. "Boromir?" No answer, just grunting. He stepped over the boulder blocking our view of their activities. There was an audible sigh of relief from Aragorn. "It's okay, guys," he called over to us. "They're just fencing." And then he sat down to watch. Everything seemed so tranquil right then, with everything in its place and everyone doing what they should be. Legolas and Gimli were trying to kill each other, Gandalf was out of the way, Sam and Frodo were cooking, Aragorn was sitting still, and Boromir was not having sex with the hobbits. Everything seemed so perfect. It was almost enough to make one forget that one's seemingly nice comrades are actually one's worst enemies, attempting to kill one. Almost enough.  
  
I should know from experience that any almost-peace we get never *ever* fuckin' lasts. Frodo just had to go look up at the sky. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at some weird black cloud in the distance. I informed him that it was just some weird black cloud in the distance. Gimli agreed. Which means, of course, that Legolas had to disagree.  
  
"No, it mustn't be, for it is moving against the wind." We looked at him expectantly. His eyes widened a little (which was a stretch for him, since his facial expressions normally range from none to vague interest). "Sauruman's spies!"  
  
Mr. Heroic Aragorn's super-protectiveness kicked in pretty fast at that. He managed to get every single one of us bundled up and under some giant rocks in record time. Shortly, a bunch of birds flew over us. A flock of crows. Sauruman's pretty cheap about his hired help...  
  
"Those were *not* Sauruman's spies," Gandalf exclaimed accusingly, glaring at Legolas.  
  
Legolas laughed. "Gotcha!"  
  
"You mean that was a joke? I'll have you know that I am a real warrior, and I do not take kindly to jokes!" Gimli roared.  
  
"If you had any sense of humour at all, maybe you wouldn't be so ugly!" Legolas shot back.  
  
"I am the epitome of dwarfish beauty! And what would you know, you're only an airhead of an elf!"  
  
"I'm smarter than you could ever be, and prettier, too. You're only jealous!"  
  
And yeah, so on and so forth. Aragorn sighed and patted Frodo on the head. "Alright, maybe it was a bad joke, but think of it as a fire drill---at least we know we're okay if actual spies did come along."  
  
Sure, take his side. We got camp set up all over again. Maybe you should rein your stud muffin in a little, I said to Aragorn when I saw him notching an arrow onto his bow. Not that I don't want him to kill Gimli, but they were pointblank distance to each other, and the arrow wouldn't be effective at all. Better to not waste it. Trees died to make arrows, y'know.  
  
Aragorn agreed and sauntered on over to them and tried to pry them apart, then tried pulling, then tried pushing in between them, then tried joining in. They didn't stop. He looked stumped. "Tell them supper's ready," Frodo suggested.  
  
"Hey, break it up, okay? Supper is ready, and it will get cold if you keep on fighting."  
  
Well, that got Gimli's attention. He forgot all about Legolas at the mention of food. Unfortunately, Legolas didn't forget all about him, and he jumped onto the little dwarf back, nearly breaking it. Aragorn acted quickly. He grabbed Legolas by the shoulders and crushed their lips together. Legolas let go of Gimli, who came running to the fire. Aragorn and Legolas won't be coming to dinner anytime soon. Especially not if they keep on moaning that way.  
  
We eventually finished up supper. Gandalf said that we should all try to get a good night's sleep, as we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. Meaning, tomorrow, we get to haul our tired asses up a huge mountain covered with snow, oh boy! Yay! And Aragorn is probably thinking the same thing, only not sarcastically. He's looking forward to yet more rugged outdoor adventures, and Legolas will be happy he's happy, and Frodo won't love me, and everything will suck. Damn them all.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	14. Walking to the Mountain

A/N: I look around, look around, and what do I see? Fics the same length as this one, with over 100 reviews. Know how many this one has? 78. That displeases me muchly. Either this fic sucks, or the audience isn't reviewing quite enough. And since I know for a fact that this fic doesn't suck... I want more reviews, dammit. I mean, please.  
  
Disclaimers: Do you knoooooooow the muffin maaaaaaaaaan, the muffin maaaaaaaaan, the muffin maaaaaaa--- oops, sorry, wrong song. Okay, here. I don't oooooooooown Lord of the Riiiiiiiiiiiiings, Lord of the Riiiiiiiiiiiiings, Lord of the Riiiiiiiiiiiiings, I don't ooooooooooown Lord of the Riiiiiiiiiiiiings, Tolkein doooooooooes. ::bows:: Thank you.  
  
Chapter 13: Walking to the Mountain ~ ~ ~  
  
Bright and early the next morning, way too early to be alive, much less awake. The damn birds were already up and at it though, chirping their fucking heads off. Yeah, I'm a little cranky in the mornings. Especially on those mornings where you wake up with that feeling of foreboding; the one where you feel like the world is out to get you and only you. Those are the mornings when I'd bite your head off if I had teeth.  
  
The most annoying thing about that morning was that I was the only one not cheerful. It wasn't just the birds that were all "lalala, look at me, I'm a happy birdy," it was *ev-er-y-one*. In fact, Merry was actually singing a song just like that while flitting around the foothills, waving and flailing his arms like the idiot he his. And Gandalf was reminding me of Santa, all jolly and old and long-bearded. Even Gimli was relatively nice, and Aragorn and Legolas were even more lovey-dovey than usual, if that was possible. Frodo, who had taken to brooding, was joking with Sam, who was overjoyed that Master Frodo was paying attention to him. And Boromir would crack crazy grins for no reason. Which was actually more disturbing than happy-looking, but we'll let that slide. The point is, I was the only one miserable. How fitting. I'm the condemned one, I should be pissed. And shit, I am sooooooo pissed. Even more pissed, if Merry insists on keeping up with that stupid little dance, or whatever the hell he calls it. You are *not* a birdy, ya wanker.  
  
Gandalf frowned at me in disapproval. "The fact that you are in a grumpy mood, Evil Ring, does not give you the right to pull everyone down with you. Have some consideration."  
  
Oh, shut up. Since when have you been on Merry's side? Besides, *you* pull everyone down with you when *you're* in a bad mood.  
  
"I am old and wise and venerated. I am respected far and wide. I think I should be allowed a little leeway when I decide to vent my feelings."  
  
Yeah, quit foolin' yourself, Gandalf. You're only one of those things you listed, and it's not 'wise,' 'venerated,' or 'respected far and wide.' Gandalf stalked off in a huff. See, told you I was cranky. After about two hours of walking, Frodo began lagging behind. "C'mon, Frodo, we have much land to cover before lunch," Aragorn called out encouragingly.  
  
"But I'm tired," Frodo whimpered, sitting down to rub his sore feet.  
  
"Aww," Legolas said, coming over and petting the top of Frodo's head. "Come, brave hobbit. The road is long, and we must travel before while the weather is favourable."  
  
Tch, when has the weather *not* been favourable. The only time I can remember it being even close to unfavourable is at the very beginning of the journey, when it rained like a billion cats and dogs pissing from the heavens. Ever since Rivendell, the weather has just been one long perfect spell of favourableness. Either the elf has been communicating with nature's spirits or whatever, or Gandalf has been doing his freaky world- control spells again.  
  
Legolas frowned at me, but he quickly returned his expression to neutral again, before his smooth forehead could be marred by wrinkles. "The weather is liable to change at anytime, with no warning whatsoever. We must take advantage of this sunny spell. Come, Frodo. Up we go." He took Frodo's little tiny hand and yanked him up.  
  
Frodo mewed and sighed. "But it's so hard..."  
  
Legolas nodded understandingly. "Yes, I can only imagine the hardships of bearing this bur---"  
  
Don't even say it. I am NOT a fucking burden, okay?  
  
Frodo sighed in defeat, and we continued on our way. Frodo trailed after Legolas and Aragorn like a little puppy. "Can I call you Fido?" Legolas suddenly asked.  
  
"Excuse me?" Frodo looked up, surprised.  
  
"Fido. Can I call you that? You're so cute! Can I handfeed you? And groom you? Can I train you to do tricks?"  
  
"Umm...no. Why?"  
  
"Because I want a pet! My daddy never let me have that dog I saw 105 years ago. But you're even cuter than that dog! Can I, pleeeeease? Pretty pleasepleaseplease?" Legolas gave him the full Spoiled Elf Prince Pout (TM).  
  
Frodo was about to say no again, but Aragorn jumped in. "Hey, what ever my sweetie-poo wants, he gets. Frodo, you will from now on act like a puppy."  
  
How will you be able to tell the difference?  
  
"Good point." (OH MY GAWD...history has been made. Not only did Aragorn actually acknowledge my comment, he actually agreed with it---praised it, even. Call the record books.) "Alright, Frodo. From now on, you will also wear a jingly collar and answer to whatever name Legolas decides to call you. Boromir's probably carrying a dog collar in his bag somewhere."  
  
"Hey, you're not the boss of him!" Sam objected. I think he was mostly appalled by the collar bit. I thought it was sexy. Although I didn't really wanna think about why Boromir would carry one around. Nope, not going there.  
  
Legolas got all aggressive (again). "He's the next king! He *is* the boss, of EVERYBODY!!! You owe him your allegiance!!!"  
  
"It's alright, Wegowas, my darling. C'mere." A quick make-out session followed. Legolas came out of it somewhat sated, but still glared at Sam with a half-deranged look in his eyes.  
  
Being the good hobbit he is, Frodo tried to appease everyone. "How about I do everything Aragorn said, except I won't wear a collar. We can just pretend I lost it."  
  
"Okay," Legolas said happily, then walked off, seeming to forget the entire matter. That elf worries me sometimes.  
  
"Wheeeeeee, I'm a birdy, a happy birdy, a happy happy ha---" Merry's song was thankfully interrupted by him running his face smack dab into a rocky surface covered with snow. "Oww," he muttered, rubbing his nose.  
  
Pippin looked up at the rock wall his hobbit buddy had run into. It was huge, seeming to jut up straight into the sky and beyond. "Whoooaaaaaa...what's that?"  
  
"That," announced Gandalf grandly, "is the mountain we will be scaling."  
  
Oh. I took another look at the giant pillar of stone and snow. Shit.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	15. Up the Big Mountain

A/N: Daaa~aaaaamn. I haven't updated since May 21. That's...a long time. More than a month. It's...hang on, I can get this...34 days. Wow. Um, I'm sorry. I had school stuff, like final exams and assignments and whatnot, all getting in the way of more important things like writing a quasi-parody for the Lord of the Rings. Anyone who's still with me really deserves a cookie. I love you!  
  
Disclaimers: Nothing is mine. The events of this story did not really happen. I hope.  
  
Chapter 14: Up the Big Mountain ~ ~ ~  
  
The climb up the mountain actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  
  
Alright, alright. That might have had something to do with the fact that I wasn't actually climbing up the mountain myself, I was sorta hitching a ride around Frodo's neck. But y'know, things don't roll uphill, and I don't exactly have feet. Besides, you don't expect me to walk to my own death, do you? They at least have to carry me not-quite-kicking-and- screaming there. And I wasn't exactly traveling in comfort and luxury, either, dangling from his neck. Two words for you: hobbit sweat. I was at risk of rusting.  
  
And I was at risk of early death, too, apparently, because Frodo decided to take a little tumble, almost going off the side of the mountain and taking me with him. He flopped a few times, mushing me into the snow, and then suddenly, the warmth of his cute li'l body was gone. Somehow, rolling around in the snow a lot resulted in unclasping the chain I was on, leaving me lying there in the cold, cold snow. Damn, it's cold. Okay, if I wasn't rusting before, I am now. Dang snow. Although, lying in the snow is preferable to lying in Boromir's hands, so---  
  
Well, spoke too soon. Boromir picked me up and held me reeeeeeeeeeeal close to his ugly face. He murmured something, and let me tell you, the guy's breath? I'm willing to bet he can curdle milk just by breathing on it. And here I was, dangling like two centimetres away from his mouth, getting breathed on. If I'm not covered with rust, then it'll be mould. Disgusting. "So small a thing," he said to me. "Such a little thing."  
  
Hey, watch yourself, bastard. I've involuntarily seen you naked before, and your 'thing' isn't all that big either, I said to him. He immediately got red in the face and started throwing choice insults at me, but I reminded him that he was the one chasing after me in the first place.  
  
"Well, I don't know what I ever saw in you, because you're just a bitchy little ring. I bet you're not even real sterling and gold! You're just copper-plated zinc, painted gold!"  
  
At least my breath doesn't smell like Gandalf's underwear!  
  
"And you would know what Gandalf's underwear smells like, wouldn't you, you little slut?"  
  
Yeah, fuck you. I'm a slut, but you were the one chasing after the slut, so what does that make you?  
  
Boromir got really, really, *really* red in the face, and tried to hit me. Ha! Stupid fucker didn't know that it was nearly impossible to place a good hit on a ring. Being so close to his face, however, gave me a more than perfect opportunity to place several good hits.  
  
"OW!!! My eye! Damned Ring!."  
  
This little fight would've escalated to something really interesting, but since we were pressed for time, Aragorn decided the heroic thing to do would be to intervene.  
  
"Boromir, just give the Ring back to Frodo, okay?"  
  
Boromir tossed me to Frodo quickly, sneering, "Take it. And keep it the hell away from me. I don't want anything to do with it ever again."  
  
Yeah, like I'm complaining. Frodo quickly fastened me around his neck. While he was doing that, I could see over his shoulder. I saw that Aragorn had put his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to whip out that big bad weapon of his. (wow, I sound like a porno) When I asked him about it, he replied with "I didn't trust him."  
  
Aww...Aragorn, I didn't know you cared! You would lop off Boromir's arm for me? Oh wait, of course you would. Because that'd be the *manly* and *gallant* thing to do. And you wouldn't be doing it for me, either. I'd be an excuse for you to do it, so that you can ensure the horny bastard would never get a chance to grab your elf's ass. In fact, he's lucky you haven't ripped out his eyes for even daring to look at that fine elven ass that belongs to you and only you.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "You know me so well."  
  
Yeah, well. Been hanging out waaaaaaaaaay too much with you, I guess.  
  
As we talked, we were getting closer and closer to the summit of the mountain. The air was getting nippier, and the snow was getting deeper. A lot deeper. As in, Gimli was having trouble breathing without snorting snowflakes up his nose. Aragorn thought it might be wise to pick up the hobbits before the fluffy white stuff swallowed them up. He grabbed Sam and Frodo, and Boromir the child molester grabbed Merry and Pippin. We went on, grunting and struggling through the deep, deep snow. Except Legolas, of course. Elves are super-light and graceful, and someone had made the mistake of giving Legolas coffee this morning, meaning he was super-light and graceful and hyper. He nanced around the surface of the snow happily, never breaking through and never falling, wiggling the famous ass we'd been talking about. I could hear Wet Strider swallowing audibly. Without even turning around to check, I could guess that his eyes were glued to Legolas's butt.  
  
Gandalf and Gimli both seemed kind of bitter about the fact that Legolas could walk on top of the snow, while they had to wallow in it. Suckers! I'm being *carried*. Before I could really get on their nerves with my triumphant crowing, though, Legolas came flitting back with an announcement: "I hear voices!"  
  
Uh...... Everyone blinked at him.  
  
"No," he yelled over the sound of the whipping wind. "I mean a real voice! There is a fell voice on the air!"  
  
Gandalf gasped loudly. "It's Saruman," he announced.  
  
The rest of us listened closely, and soon we could pick up a voice, chanting some sort of spell noisily. Gandalf shouted a counter-spell. There was much yelling, and chunks of snow and rock began to fall on us.  
  
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled courageously. More snow fell down.  
  
Dude, no he isn't. It's the yelling! *We're* causing an avalanche! But, as usual, no one deigned to listen to me. And guess what happened? An avalanche. Tonnes and tonnes of freezing cold snow dumped on us like bricks, and even Legolas, high on coffee, was buried.  
  
This'll probably cause some rusting too.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	16. Down the Big Mountain

A/N: Hey people! Summer rocks, you know that? Just thought you'd like to know. Winter's great too, but the two weeks off have nothing on the two months off you get in the summer. Alright then, down to business. Cookies go out to Late Blake's Assistant, darkcherry, and biisis. And welcome aboard, Sunrunner of Summer, haven't seen you before, but thanks for checking out my fic. And a really major, great, big, *huge* cookie with toppings on top for Paige Darke, for giving me great review for just about every chapter. And the rest of you wankers who read but don't review? I love you anyway, but review! I'm at 93 reviews, and I wanna hit triple digits!  
  
Disclaimers: I think I've been over this enough for anyone with even half a brain cell to know that I don't own a goddamned thing. But in case you're Wilson Tso, or George W. Bush, or some other person born with less than half a brain cell, here it is. I DO NOT OWN THE LOTR UNIVERSE.  
  
Chapter 15: Down the Big Mountain ~ ~ ~  
  
After some long moments of hacking and struggling and writhing and all that fun stuff you get to do when you're on the brink of dying, we managed to fight our way through the snow enough to allow us to breathe. Aragorn, like his predecessor Isildur, was prone to wheezing, and that's what I got to listen to while watching Gimli waddle his way out of snow, panting and heaving. Speaking of heaving, I don't recall ever having been so thankful for the fact that I have no mouth and can't eat, because if I did and could, I would have been vomiting all over the snow right then. Gimli and Aragorn separately were a lot to take. Together? It took all of my self- control to not make loud retching sounds.  
  
Legolas, of course, took everything in stride. The wheezing of Aragorn, he probably hears every night, and Gimli was too short for him to see. And the snow? Not a problem. He went right on, frolicking around in it, squealing in delight.  
  
"WHEEEEEE!!! This is FUN! Oh, isn't this fun, Gandalf?" our blonde three- year-old asked. Gandalf growled.  
  
"The weather is too bad for us to go on! I say we go through the Mines of Moria! I used to date this chick there, and she can get us rooms for next to nothing," Gimli said. I immediately had to chase out images of Gimli getting hot n' heavy with some lady dwarf. Oh, fuck, that's nasty.  
  
Apparently, Gandalf thought so too. He visibly paled at the thought of being stuck underground with women who would date *Gimli*, and vehemently said, "No! We will go over the mountain and tempt certain death instead! Anything but the Mines of Moria!"  
  
Boromir agreed. "We will *not* go into the Mines. How about we take the Gap of Rohan?"  
  
"That takes us too close to the big scary dude," Sam said, shaking his head.  
  
"Alrighty, mountain and certain death it is," Boromir said, ready to set off again.  
  
Through all of this discussion, Merry and Pippin watched Legolas nance around like a demented fairy out of hell in the snow. Pippin poked Merry, made a motion with his head, and on some creepy, unspoken hobbit agreement, the both of them joined Legolas. Oh, gawd, would y'all just stop with that?! Now, there were three of them, bouncing around like idiots, joyously shouting "Whee! Fun! Fun!"  
  
This proved to be too much for everyone. "See? Mines of Moria are the way to go!" Gimli said smugly.  
  
"Let the Ringbearer decide," Gandalf compromised, begging Frodo with his eyes to get us off this damned mountain and away from the snow.  
  
"Mines of Moria." Frodo looked at Pippin and Merry and Legolas. "And quickly, too."  
  
"A wise choice," Aragorn commended. "Boromir? Are we in agreement?"  
  
"Fiery demons and hideous dwarf-women be damned! I'll take them over watching those three fucking fairies nancing in the snow any day!"  
  
"Legolas, the love of my life," he called out, "we're leaving the mountain to go through the Mines of Moria."  
  
Legolas pouted. "But there is no snow down in the depths of the Earth. No snow in which I can play!"  
  
Exactly, I muttered. Aragorn glared at me. "But honey, it's too cold up here for Frodo. You don't want your puppy to get sick, do you?"  
  
"Hey, wait a sec---"  
  
"Quiet, Frodo," Aragorn hissed. "Do you want to get off the mountain or not?" That shut him up. Frodo gave a puppy-like whimper and chattered his teeth.  
  
Legolas sighed, and skipped back. Disappointed, Pippin and Merry followed him.  
  
"Poor Fido. If you really cannot bear the cold, we will take a warmer route." He patted Frodo's head.  
  
"There's a good elfie," Aragorn said. "Such selfless action. My babylove is so mature and considerate." This was, of course, followed by lots of wet kissing. Aragorn was still carrying poor Fido, so it happened over his head. And since I was on his neck, I could see all of it just fine, too. Oh, man, save it for the bedroom! Knock it out! Frodo scrunched up his eyes, and Sam came to his rescue (of course).  
  
"Hey! Cold hobbits need to get off the mountain, remember?" he yelled.  
  
Legolas pulled away. "Okay. How shall we descend?"  
  
"We're going to walk, sugarplum."  
  
"Walk? How horribly boring!"  
  
"I can shove you down the mountain, if you want," Gimli offered. "I'm sure hurling down the side, screaming and scrabbling desperately for a handhold, would be much more exciting than just plain walking."  
  
Legolas looked like he was actually considering the offer, but Aragorn got all wonky and possessive. "Did you just threaten the bane of my existence? The core of my heart? The heater of my bed? Did you?! Did you just express wishes to endanger his life? Did you?!?! Huh? DID YOU?!?!?! ANSWER ME!!!!!"  
  
"Estelly-welly, darling, just let it go."  
  
"He *threatened* you!!!"  
  
"Hmm...indeed, he did! Why, you stinky dwarf!" And the two of them lunged at Gimli together. Sam and Frodo, still in Aragorn's arms, gave frightened yelps.  
  
Dude! We're supposed to be getting off the fucking mountain, remember? The storm's getting worse, the avalanche is starting up again, the wind's setting in, and I really don't wanna get squished between the gayest gay elf *ever* and the nastiest nasty dwarf *EVER*, okay?  
  
"Fine!" Legolas stalked off, miffed.  
  
"Ring..." Aragorn began. Don't even start with me, okay? I have more of a right to bitch than any of you, so just save it. Aragorn shut his mouth, and we began walking down the way we came.  
  
"Hey! I have an idea!" Oh, great. That was Legolas's 'I'm so brillian' tone, meaning he has another crazy-ass suggestion. Yeah, it was in that tone of voice that he suggested making Frodo his puppy. And it was probably also in that tone of voice that he asked Aragorn out for the very first time.  
  
"What is it?" the rest of us asked, some sounding more terrified than others.  
  
"Look at Boromir's large shield."  
  
Boromir immediately got on the defensive. "Ohhhhh no. No. You are not doing anything that involves me or my weaponry. The answer is final. No."  
  
"But it would be so much fun!"  
  
"What is it, exactly," Aragorn asked warily.  
  
"We could toboggan down the side of the mountain in the shield. It is sufficiently spacious, and would make a rather good toboggan, would it not?" he said proudly, happy he came up with such a brilliant idea.  
  
"NO!!!" Boromir clamped his hands firmly around his shield and shook his head violently. "Absolutely not! No way in hell!"  
  
Hey, if it'll make Boromir mad, then I'm all for it. Boromir shook his fist at me, but from our earlier encounter, I knew that he couldn't throw a punch for shit.  
  
"Isn't that a little dangerous? It would kill me if you got hurt, Legolas. It would absolutely break my heart. You don't want to break my heart, do you?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"No, I suppose not." Legolas looked at the shield longingly. "We are almost at the bottom, anyhow."  
  
Gandalf, Boromir, and Gimli all breathed audible sighs of relief. Trust Aragorn to be able to totally manipulate Legolas. I so have to learn how to do that to Frodo. Oh, the possibilities... Anyhow, we reached the entrance of the Mines of Moria without any further kafuffle, and we all sat down for a well-deserved rest by some dirty puddle near the entrance, waiting for Gandalf to open the doors to this new hell.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	17. Going Into the Mines

A/N: In reply to Sunrunner of Summer's question/comment about Al dying at the end, I have about six working endings right now, and I haven't really decided what I want to do with them, but you can rest assured that All will *not* die. Logically, he can't die, since the fic is told in past tense, from his POV, meaning he has to be alive in order to tell the story. Anyhow, what I really wanted to tell you guys was that I will be going to Hong Kong for two weeks starting tomorrow night. Depending on the amount of internet access, I'll probably still be able to post there, but in case I can't, now you'll know why.  
  
Disclaimers: Yeah, I was flipping through the ol' Sears catalogue, and guess what I saw? The LOTR universe, up for sale. The retail price was $ 440 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000 000, shipping and handling not included. Needless to say, I was a little short in the monetary department. So, I don't own it.  
  
Chapter 16: Going Into the Mines ~ ~ ~  
  
"Oh, Moria, Moria, sweet home Moria..." Gimli sighed, no doubt longing for the good dwarf lovin' he's been missing. Sick. I can smell the underground orgy already. Thank god Gandalf seemed to have trouble opening the door.  
  
"I don't get it. See, the door's outlined in this stuff that only reflects moonlight," Gandalf pointed out. (Funny how we have a full moon at this precise moment, conveniently lighting the door up for us.) "I'm supposed to say the password, and it opens up. I've said the password, and it won't open!" Gandalf sat down on a boulder next to the door, no doubt to ponder this problem while having a smoke. Should he be smoking this much at his age? Should I care?  
  
Nah.  
  
Gandalf took a damn long time pondering. Frodo went to go join Sam, sitting on the shore of the puddle and watching Pippin throw rocks into the water out of pure boredom. Once, he threw one a little too hard, splashing Legolas's silky robes. Legolas yelped, and Aragorn growled. "Pippin," he said, grabbing the little hobbit arm, "stop throwing things into the water. Or else."  
  
Everyone's a little afraid of Mr. Ranger when it concerned his blonde boy toy. Pippin agreed to stop. Deprived of watching him throw stuff, Frodo wandered over to look at the glowing door. The glowing, *closed* door. Gandalf was next to it, still smoking, muttering "I just don't get it! What else can I do?"  
  
Frodo cocked his head to look at the pig-Latin written across the arch of the door, and said "Perhaps it's a riddle."  
  
Gandalf looked up.  
  
"Speak, friend, and enter. They want you to say 'friend.' What's friend in El---"  
  
Pig-Latin, I interrupted.  
  
"In Elvish," Frodo finished, glaring at me. Essentially, he was glaring at the hollow between his neck and his chest, where I dangled, and boy did he look weird.  
  
Gandalf laughed. I think he laughed at the fact that he didn't figure out the riddle and Frodo did, but he might have been just laughing at how dumb Frodo looked. It was hard to tell. Anyhow, he said, "Hey, perhaps you're right!" and stood up, yelling "FRIEND" in pig-Latin impressively. The stone doors creaked open.  
  
That's one for Legolas's little dog, zero for the old geezer.  
  
"HOME!" Gimli shoved pass us and ran into the black abyss behind the door. The rest of us were a touch more reluctant to go in, taking little steps and trying to think of excuses to pass through the Gap of Rohan instead.  
  
"Mines are bad for ponies," Aragorn decided, sending our loyal pack horse Bill back the way we came. Mountains, avalanches, dwarf swearing, monkey sex between a male elf and a male human probably aren't too good for ponies either, so I guess Bill had had enough. Watching him grow smaller and smaller, getting further and further away from the Mines of Moria, I was consumed with the sudden urge to yell for Bill to take me with him. Hey, can you blame me? He's probably gonna be the only one of us who's coming home alive.  
  
We wandered into the mines, and I could smell the putrid smell of death and rotting. *Oh sweet heavens, help me!* I couldn't see anything, because it was black as pitch. *If god won't help, will you, dear Satan?* A sliver of moonlight managed to find its way into the room, though, and it was just enough to illuminate......a skull with an arrow through it?!?! GAH! *Help me, please! Jesus? Buddha? Odin? Zeus?* A low, pulsing sound of impending doom echoed from the depths of the mines. *ANYONE???*  
  
With no warning at all, a tentacle appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Frodo's ankle and dragging him out of the mine. I was maybe a little more relieved than I should be. A giant squid thing just grabbed us, after all, and I was glad? But then again, a giant squid thing just got us out of a creepy-ass mine, and boy I was glad. Frodo wasn't very happy about it, though.  
  
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Help, Aragorn!"  
  
Sam screamed. "Strider!"  
  
"Elessar!" Legolas called, already stringing up his bow.  
  
To anyone else, it would have sounded like they were yelling for three different people. But nope, it's the same wet Ranger, about to get wetter.  
  
Just what was that squid thing doing, anyway? It had a billion tentacles, and billion more teeth, and wild eyes. It gnashed its fangs and thrashed around, making me a little motion-sick and more than a little worried. Was it going to eat us?  
  
The squid squealed as one of Legolas's arrows found it's way to it. It dropped us, but before we could plummet the 25 feet into the murky water, another tentacle caught us. Okay, guys, I appreciate the rescue you're attempting and all, but could we please NOT do that again?!?!?! Hobbits and Rings can't swim.  
  
I turned to the squid. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?  
  
The squid roared and made threatening gestures with its (many) tentacles.  
  
Hey, if you're angry about having rocks thrown at you, you should really be going after that blonde hobbit over there, not us.  
  
The squid chomped at the air, inches from Frodo's head.  
  
Okay, so that wasn't it. What do you want? Do you want me? Do you work for Sauron? No, that can't be it, because I don't recognize you, and I know all of Daddy---I mean, *Sauron's* employees. Do you want me for my powers, then? Well, I got news for you, I have no powers.  
  
The squid paused, confused. Then, it waved its tentacles some more. Meanwhile, Boromir and Aragorn and Gimli were hacking at it. They could probably make a fortune making sushi with the quid pieces flying around.  
  
That's it, isn't it? You want the Ring of Power. What the hell would a squid do with ultimate power, anyway? You can't rule the world from an aquarium, you know.  
  
The squid made some rather impressive snarling sounds and attempted to eat us again. "Evil Ring? Could we please refrain from taunting the monster?" Frodo asked, losing his composure. The poor kid was completely pale---no small feat for a person hanging upside down. Usually, all the blood rushes to your head, making you bright red.  
  
At that moment, Legolas managed to shoot the thing in the eye, presumably piercing its brain. Or just stunning it. I'd be stunned too, suddenly finding out that the delicate little queer elf could shoot with such deadly accuracy. In either case, the squid flopped down, motionless, and dropped us. Oh shit. It dropped us. Um, remember what I said about the 25-foot drop and not doing that? I prepared, for a face plant into the dirty water, but Aragorn, bless him, caught us.  
  
The big manly warriors (I mean, including Legolas...thought I should add that, because you can't count him as "manly") stood around panting, congratulating themselves on a heroic and manly deed well done. Without warning, the squid began to stir once more. So I guess it was just stunned at Legolas's ability, and not really dead. It began to come after us again, and we ran for it. Unfortunately, the only place we could run to was back into the freaky mines. Gimli was all for it, of course. The squid roared. We ran.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	18. A Long Underground Walk

A/N: Hello, everyone. Yours truly is back safe and sound from Hong Kong. And, a cause for celebration! I am, as some of you kindly pointed out, over 100 reviews!!! Go me! I would individually thank each and every one of you who made this possible, but my author's notes have been getting longer and longer. So, to switch things up a bit, we'll have a long-ass disclaimer instead.  
  
Disclaimers: I do not own any characters or events. Unless it's really clear I made up the events. Those, I do own. But other than that, no, I do not own the events. In other words, the events that aren't mine are not mine. And conversely, the events that are actually mine are, in fact, mine. Also, I do not make money off of my fics. I don't plan on making money off of my fics. I doubt I *can* make money off of my fics. I doubt anyone would buy my fics. I wouldn't even buy my fics. All those Big Corporate People that LOTR belongs to have the power to make money. I do not. I repeat: I do NOT make money. I make no money. You are getting sleepy. You shall not sue me. Nooneshallsueme. I am harmless. I'm a harmless little angel. ::angelic smile::  
  
Chapter 17: A Long Underground Walk ~ ~ ~  
  
We ran straight into the dark, freaky-deaky mines. It was the only way to go, and the squid tried to follow. Fortunately, the entrance was too small for the slimy wanker to fit through. Unfortunately, the squid ignored that fact and tried to stuff itself in regardless. The stone supports of the entrance collapsed, leaving us trapped in total darkness.  
  
Something was definitely not right with the mines. Seriously. I could feel it in my...um, ring-bones. Yeah. Uh, anyhow, steering you back to the point. There was something horribly wrong here. Gandalf struck one of his 90watt magic wizard lamps, guaranteed to last 500 hours, with new floral scents (plug it in, plug it in). As the gloom was penetrated by the soothing glow of soft wizard light, we began to find out just why the mines felt so wrong.  
  
"Aragorn..." Legolas's trembling voice floated above the shocked silence. "Is that...a..."  
  
"Yes, that is a rotting skull with a sharp dagger through it," Boromir said sensitively. The place was covered with dead bodies, already skeletons, with weaponry sticking out of various orifices, like the one Boromir so kindly pointed out. Legolas whimpered. Aragorn growled, looking like he'd also like to put a dagger through a certain (coughBoromir'scoughcough) skull. He wrapped an arm around Legolas's willowy shoulders and took him off a little ways away from the group to whisper comforting (and no doubt pornographic) sweet nothings into his ear.  
  
"You're comforting *him*?!?!?!?!" Gimli roared. "He needs no comfort!!! I'm the one whose relatives all DIED!!!!! What about me?!"  
  
By then, Legolas was already too busy making out with Aragorn in a secluded corner to be bothered to make snarky comment at Gimli's outburst. Seeing as how the elf was the only who had been even remotely civil to me, I decided to do him a favour and make a snarky comment for him.  
  
"My cousins! My kin! My woman love-dwarves!!!" Gimli sobbed.  
  
So we're a few dwarves short of a full-out drunken orgy. Boo hoo. You smell bad enough to make up for all of them.  
  
"You evil Ring! How dare you!" Gimli gasped. "We would have provided food and hospitality! And good loving!"  
  
Yeah. Good thing they died, then. No part of this finely polished body will be manhandled by chunky dwarf hands, thankyouverymuch.  
  
"I second that," Legolas managed to say from his corner, amid the passionate moans.  
  
Boromir made an assenting noise. I didn't point out the fact that he had no fine body to worry for. After all, it was the spirit that counted. And, y'know, this was the one and only time I agreed with the position he was lobbying for.  
  
Gandalf frowned at all of us. "You guys fail to see the bigger picture!" he said. "Someone must have killed all these dwarves."  
  
No, really? And I always thought swords and arrows were natural causes of death. Gandalf, of course, ignored me and continued.  
  
"Someone killed them, and that someone could still be here, waiting for their next victim," he said ominously.  
  
"Well, we can't go back out there! That monster will attack Mr. Frodo again!" Sam cried, taking advantage of the moment and sidling up to Frodo, sneaking his arm around his waist. Frodo knocked it off irritably. Attempting to put himself back in his good graces, Sam stuck out his chest heroically and announced, "I will not let us go back there. I will not let Mr. Frodo come to harm!"  
  
Yeah, there's that. There's also the fact that giant boulders are completely blocking our way out. The only way is to go forward. Or, we could all just sit here among the decomposing corpses. Whatever tickles your fancy.  
  
"I vote we find a different way out," Aragorn said in a manly manner, arranging his clothes and straightening his scabbard.  
  
"No. I think we should move forward," Legolas said, coming back looking as impeccable as ever. He eyed a skeleton nervously. "The pall of death puts me ill at ease."  
  
"Well then it's settled. We'll move forward," the very whipped Ranger said.  
  
The rest of us shrugged, not really caring either way. Both spelled trouble and doom anyway.  
  
We moved on past the entrance and went deeper into the mine-turned-tomb. Everyone walked in silence. Almost. Merry and Pippin were skipping around giggling, but aside from that, we were quiet. Is it bad that I've gotten so used to seeing two hobbits doing their best impressions of rabbits with ADD that I think it's normal? Yeah, I think so.  
  
Gandalf would not stop obsessing about who killed all the dwarves. I personally wasn't too worried about it. I mean, if I saw us from a mile away, I'd run like hell. Even fearless dwarf-killers would implode from a billion migraines if forced to hang around us for too long. Besides, anyone who kills a bunch of dwarves can't be all that bad. And I wouldn't exactly complain if Gimli ended up dead. And took Boromir, Sam, and especially Pippin and Merry with him. In fact, if I could, I'd do it myself. Gandalf politely told me to shut the fuck up.  
  
But I just think that---  
  
Gandalf then proceeded to politely tell me just where I could stick my thoughts. Frodo moved us off closer to the back of the group, probably worried that Gandalf would attack me, and by association his neck.  
  
At the back, Boromir was propositioning Pippin and Merry again, coming onto them like the horny child-molester he was. Also at the back were the multi- named wet guy and his beloved bed blankie, joined at the hip as usual. The curious thing about Legolas (y'know, aside from all the other curious things about Legolas) was his immense love of arrows. Every time he passed by a dead body, he would shudder and cling onto his very obliging boyfriend. Unless, I noticed, the dead body happened to get to be a dead body because of an arrow or two. Then, he'd stop in delight to examine the arrow(s).  
  
"See, this one here is a SmoothFlight 3420, a very streamlined model. It possesses excellent speed, but is not nearly as steady as the gilded Cerberon XE we saw back near that big pile of carcasses. Now, that one, the one in the ribs of the dwarf near Boromir's left foot? It is of an old- fashioned make, by the skilled Montgolfier. One can tell because Montgolfier always attached an extra little red feather onto his arrows. I am not very familiar with the older types, but it is said by many that the craftsmanship of this particular model is quite exquisite."  
  
...Um. Yes.  
  
I had to give Aragorn due. The guy was a billion times better than I was at acting interested. You could tell he wasn't really, since he rolled his eyes whenever Legolas was looking the other way. However, he still actually *listened* to the boring shit the elf was spewing. He actually had questions and comments to offer, like "What about the notch on this one? It doesn't look as even as the others."  
  
Damn. I hate to say it, but Aragorn makes a pretty decent boyfriend. That is, if you don't mind the perpetually wet hair, the rather annoying rugged heroic manly thing, and the ever-present willingness to fuck you into the bed (or the floor, or the wall, or a chair, or the counter, or the ground...whichever is nearest.) Oh. And the whole deal with the irritating elf princess who's always following him, hell-bent on making him marry her. There's that, too. Y'know, Legolas actually puts up with a hell of a lot more than I usually give him credit for.  
  
On we walked, for a very, very, very long time. There was no way of telling night from day, so we just slept when we felt like it. Chances are, this majorly fucked up our internal clocks. It would have been fine, though, except for one tiny flaw. See, *some people* (those two damn hobbits, and our resident lovebirds) never slept, while *some other people* (GIMLI, and Sam) would sleep all the time if left to their own devices. Somehow, we still managed to keep moving forward. Which doesn't actually mean anything, considering we were getting nowhere. I had an inkling that we were lost. Perhaps I should ask the supposedly wise and venerable wizard just what the hell we're doing, wandering around in the dark like little disoriented moles.  
  
Gandalf, are we lost?  
  
The old man we were following with blind abandon (what are we, a cult?) turned towards me. (Meaning he also turned towards Frodo, who'd been itching to ask the same question, I just know it.)  
  
"No, we are not lost," he said reassuringly. "I just don't know where we are or where we're going."  
  
That means we're lost.  
  
"Nooo, I just don't know where we are or whe---"  
  
Yeah. We were lost.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	19. Continuing the Long Underground Walk

A/N: Next to no one reviewed the last chapter, aside from the ever-loyal Paige Darke and biisis. Not even the assistant ::stern cough:: Rather disappointing, I must say. Anyhow, as per biisis's request, I put in more Al/Frodo interaction for this chapter. Now don't go getting the idea that you can just request whatever you want to see in the story, and I'll put it in. The only reasons I did it for her was 1) She's reviewed every single chapter, 2) She's a friend, and 3) She plugs my fic! Yay!!!  
  
**My apologies to everyone for the late update. If I presented my excuses, this chapter would get too long.**  
  
Disclaimers: Okay, here's the thing. LOTR is obviously not mine. Because if I owned it, this would be posted under "Original Fiction" at fictionpress.net, instead of here, as *fan*fiction.  
  
Chapter 18: Continuing the Long Underground Walk ~ ~ ~  
  
Days we've been wandering around in this dank and cheerless abyss: 4. Number of times Merry and Pippin have sung "100 Bottles of Beer On the Wall": 85. Times we've stopped so old men and wet Rangers can have their smoking breaks: 16. Number of arguments between Legolas and Gimli: 765 413...and counting. Number of times Aragorn has threatened Boromir with either extreme bodily injury or death: 129. Number of baths and/or showers we have taken: 0. Zeeeeero. NONE. At all. Amount I would pay to be anywhere but here: *Absolutely limitless*.  
  
Do you see what I'm getting at here?  
  
God fucking dammit, whatever did I do to deserve this fate??? I am *this close* to killing myself, just to save us the journey. Because I cannot imagine being with these nine cretins a second longer, much less being with them all the way to Mt. Doom. At best, Mount Frickin' Doom is a month away. With our track record, it is at least several years away. But then I think about how happy Sam would be if I offed myself, and y'know, I just can't bear to give him that kind of satisfaction. Still, suicide is getting mighty tempting.  
  
The only remote bit of entertainment I can get is by tormenting people. Yeah, that's my excuse. But hey, I'm an immortal ring with a short attention span...you gotta give me something to do, right? The person I'm currently amusing myself with is Legolas.  
  
"I *am* not!"  
  
Dude, ask around. You so are.  
  
"I am most definitely not!!! I am not, by any means, 'swishy'."  
  
Listen, stud-muffin. If you were any swishier, you'd be a windshield wiper.  
  
"Excuse me?!" He paused to give a affronted gasp, slender hand clasped daintily in front of his mouth. Yeah. Reeeeeaaal manly.  
  
You are. You are the poster boy for campy gayness that usually can only be found at nude art galleries and drag-queen contests. If swishiness wanted to assume shape and walk around as a living thing, it would look at you for guidance. You are swishiness incarnate.  
  
Legolas whirled around to look at Aragorn. "I am not. Am I?" he demanded.  
  
The look on Aragorn's face was usually reserved for cows who are about to become leather pants. "Um...sweetie? I'm don't know. I'm not an expert in the matter, or anything, you know?"  
  
Not an expert my ass! Strider, you are the epitome of over-the-top ruggedness. If anyone knows anything about manliness, it's you. So go ahead and tell Legolas the truth.  
  
The look Aragorn gave me was usually reserved for threatening Boromir. But too late, the damage was done. Legolas was waiting for an answer.  
  
"Sugarplum, you know that I love you the way you are, right? And even though you may not be the most masculine pers---"  
  
Legolas flounced off to the front of the group, crying. (On the way, of course, he "accidentally" stepped on Gimli's foot.)  
  
"See what you have done?" Aragorn glared daggers at me. "Frodo, why can't you keep your Ring wrapped up in something tight and smelly?"  
  
Frodo looked up from his intense brooding. "Because you are the only one of us who owns anything tight and smelly," he muttered. That's my boy.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. Er. I feel more secure with the Ring around my neck. What harm can it do?"  
  
And, Aragorn switches gears into the 'lecturing parent' mode he goes into whenever he thinks one of the Fellowship is underestimating me. Because he's still convinced I have 'powers'. "What harm can it do? What harm can it do??? Those could have been the very words spoken by the ancient peoples before they were all killed by a sweep of Sauron's hand!"  
  
You'll note that it was a sweep of Sauron's hand. Not mine. I don't even have a hand! I'm harmless. Sauron may have been a bit of a megalomaniac, but I'm pure gold! In both senses of the phrase!  
  
I was, as per usual, ignored.  
  
"That Ring is mastered by Sauron. It *wants* to be found!" he warned ominously. He's been saying that whole 'it wants to be found' thing a lot. Like it's any big surprise. OF COURSE I WANNA BE FOUND! You are on a mission to kill me. Put yourself in my shoes. Wouldn't you want to be found, too? Huh??? Wouldn't you?!?!?! Plus, if Sauron finds me, he will undoubtedly take me back. Take me away from you insane fanatics, away from this hellhole, and far far away from Sam. Yeah, I wanna be found, but can you blame me? Can you?!?!?!?!?!?!  
  
...  
  
Ahem.  
  
I had to get that out.  
  
"Yes. Um, right." Frodo tucked me back into his shirt, while Aragorn quickly made his way to the front of the posse, mumbling something along the lines of "I have to see to my, uh, Legolas."  
  
Mm-hmm. I see I have presented my case strongly.  
  
Frodo fell back to brooding, as he has been doing for most of the journey. Gandalf was yelling at Sam, and the fucker probably deserved it. Clamour at the front of the group indicated that Legolas had managed to start yet another fight with Gimli. And when that ended, it was replaced by wet sounds and lots of moaning, meaning Aragorn and managed to win back Legolas's (swishy) heart. Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin broke out in song *again*. This time, it was some bawdy refrain Boromir had been teaching them, and after a few bars Boromir himself joined in. And then Gandalf joined in. Oh heavenly father take me now---okay, wait. How in hell did *Gandalf* know that song? Gimli yelled at them all to shut up, claiming that singing such a crude song in the place where his whole family died isn't really nice. They all kept on singing. And then Frodo woke from his brooding and burst into tears.  
  
You guys? You guys!!! I think it's time for you to take a smoking break, if you know what I mean.  
  
Everyone stopped. Legolas rushed over in a flurry of silk and blond hair, all concerned for his puppy. "Frodo? Pray tell, what is the matter?"  
  
"I cannot stand this! I can't take it anymore! The burden is too much!!!"  
  
Hey, excuse me, I resent that.  
  
Legolas did that annoying 'no words, communicating with our eyes' thing with Aragorn. Aragorn nodded and herded everyone onto a big rock, telling them we were taking a break. Gandalf shrugged and took out his pipe.  
  
"Dear Frodo, so small to be carrying such a big burden." Legolas knelt down and hugged him. "But you must realize that you are doing very well. Think of the stories you can tell your fellow hobbits when you are home safe, when all of this is over."  
  
Frodo sniffled and nodded. "Thanks, Legolas. I think I just need a little air, a little alone time to collect myself."  
  
Legolas nodded kindly. "Of course. We will wait until you are ready."  
  
And Frodo toddled off to a separate boulder, climbing onto it with a sigh. See, it's people like that damn elf who make me look bad. How can he naturally know what to say like that? Do they have like little elf-lessons for this, or do they--- "Oh, do be quiet, you."  
  
Hey, don't even start on me, pal. You're the one who went and dragged up that shit about me being a burden.  
  
"I wasn't referring to you, Evil Ring. I swear. I just needed a little room to myself, because frankly, all of that bickering and noise and squabbling was getting to be too much. I was developing a huge headache and an even huger urge to hit someone. When I said burden, everybody thought I meant you. But I really had Boromir and his cursed songs in mind."  
  
Really?  
  
"Yes. Now, if you will kindly be quiet. I intend to enjoy my half-minute of sanity."  
  
Wow. I think that's like the nicest thing you've said to me since you met me. Not the last sentence. I mean, the thing about you not meaning me when you said 'burden.' And I am so glad I'm not the only one who thinks they're all too much. I know what you mean by the whole urge to hit them thing. I so have that too. Except, y'know, you actually have fists and I don't. I think I can still---  
  
"Stuff it."  
  
Yes sir.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
(Wow. I think that's one of the longest chapters ever. Go me.) 


	20. Still On a Long Underground Walk

A/N: Sorry, sorry. I know. It's been an *insanely* long time since I last updated. But you know, I started a new school, and I've been up to my ears in work, so I never got the time to write. Plus, the damn school is a 1 and a half hour bus ride from my house, which totally eats into my time. Anyhow, I've worked out sort of a rough writing schedule now. I can't promise anything, but perhaps the updates won't be so few and far in between now.  
  
And, a great big THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. You guys really motivate me, you really do.  
  
Disclaimers: I own everything in the LOTR universe!!!!!! Mwahahaha! ( see, that's what I would be saying if I were J.R.R. Tolkein. But I'm not. Go figure.  
  
Chapter 19: Still On a Long Underground Walk ~ ~ ~  
  
We had some peace and quiet for, oh, maybe ten whole minutes. Which, if you look back at the records, is pretty good for this group. But all good things come to an end.  
  
Boromir took it upon himself to get up and announce that the smoking break was over. Which basically translates into "Boromir took it upon himself to get up and start our 472 957 238th group fight."  
  
"Who made you the boss?" Sam challenged, staring up at the man considerably bigger than him. (For once, I found myself rooting for Sam. He was the perfect height to just can that dirty old bastard.)  
  
"I think I have plenty of right to leadership decisions. After all, if a mere Ranger such as Aragorn can lead us, then I can too."  
  
Legolas immediately got up from Aragorn's lap. "Excuse me? That is no *mere* Ranger! Firstly, he is the BEST Ranger this land has ever seen. Secondly, he is also your KING. And thirdly, he possesses more masculinity than you could ever hope to imagine, and I daresay that your 'Horn of Gondor' is not nearly as impressive as---"  
  
Once he got going, there was only one possible way to shut him up; Aragorn quickly crushed his mouth over the elf's. But not before the damage was done.  
  
"What does he mean, I wonder, about the size of his Horn of Gondor?" Pippin asked Merry.  
  
Merry said back, in that stage-whisper the hobbits used, so that everyone could hear, "You silly twit, he means his peewee. His Little Boromir. His family jewels?"  
  
Aaaaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!! My ears!!!!!!! My virgin ears!!!!!!! My poor, traumatized soul!!!!!!!!!!!! I really don't need to here Merry talking about Boromir's twiddly bits, if ya know what I mean. Goddammit, I think I'm gonna be sick!!!  
  
"Oh come off it, Ring. As though you don't like it," Boromir said indignantly.  
  
Eeeeeeeeewwwwwww!!!!!!! Oh, gods, strike me down and kill me, if only to spare me from all this!!!!!  
  
Frodo rubbed his temples. He got up from his rock, and walked to the edge of some crevasse. "All I wanted was a moment's peace," he sighed. "I never thought the day would come that I would seriously contemplate jumping off this ledge and be done with it."  
  
Hey, you and me both, pal. Boromir. Christ. ::shudder::  
  
Suddenly, Frodo grabbed me. It wasn't entirely unpleasant. "Look, Ring!" he gasped. "Something is moving!"  
  
I looked, and there he was. Gollum. My ex. Well, doesn't this freakshow adventure just keep getting better and better. The slimy little creature (sadly, I'm not even exaggerating this description of him) was crawling around, hiding in shadows and running back and forth like no one could see him. Like his wet skin wasn't reflecting light and making him as obvious as a neon-signpost in the middle of the road.  
  
Frodo ran to Gandalf and told him about Gollum. "Why is he back?"  
  
Gandalf nodded sagely. "He has been following us for the past three days. He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. He'll never be rid of his need for the Ring."  
  
Well, what can I say, I said modestly. I'm like a narcotic. Everyone waaaaants me, my love is like a drug.  
  
Gandalf and Frodo both rolled their eyes, even though it was *TRUE*.  
  
"It's a pity that Bilbo did not kill him when he had the chance..."  
  
Oh my god, this is like a freaky soap opera gone mad! Three of my love interests are converging into one conversation!  
  
Gandalf muttered something I deigned not to hear, and said in his 'wise' voice, "Some that die deserve to live. Many that live deserve to die---" here, he shot Merry and Pippin the tiniest of looks, but I caught it. He then continued his long speech.  
  
Frodo looked very depressed after it. Legolas glared at Gandalf for making Frodo all sad, and Gandalf quickly said "But you know, evil isn't the only force at work. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and therefore you were too."  
  
See!!! Even Gandalf says so! We were meant to be, Frodo! Meant to be!!!!!! So maybe we should just forget about this whole mission to kill me thing and go and live happily ever after. I shot Gandalf a look. Feel free to help me anytime, you evil old bag.  
  
"Right. The Ring may even have to potential to become good!"  
  
The Ring may even be NOT EVIL!!!  
  
Frodo shook his head. "No, I shall see my duties to the fullest and make sure the Ring's powers are put to rest forever."  
  
There *ARE* no powers!!!!!!!!!! I practically sobbed.  
  
"Um..." Gandalf looked around awkwardly. "Oh look! I know which way we should go!"  
  
Everyone brightened up quickly. "He remembered!" Gimli said, happy to be out of here before he got dragged into another catfight with Legolas.  
  
"No, the air just smells less foul this way."  
  
Everyone got up to follow Gandalf, but then I was hit with an epiphany.  
  
Hey, wait a minute! If we're going to some dwarf centre, shouldn't the air smell fouler? All that dwarf stench and stuff?  
  
Everyone stopped. Legolas stared at me. "Good point!!! Excellent thinking, dear Ring! We should be going in the *other* direction."  
  
Gimli looked like he would burst, or perhaps massacre us all. But then Gandalf agreed with me too, so we all went the other way. Excuse me if I was kinda brutal, but the truth is the truth, right? Dwarves stink.  
  
It turns out, I was right. The dwarf city was in the opposite direction. Ha! In your face, Gimli, you can't deny it now!!! Anyhow, yes. Dwarrowdelf. Gandalf cranked up his wizard light a couple of notches, and the gloom was lifted. Everyone was duly impressed. The place was huuuuuuuuuuuge. Fancy stone pillars, high ceilings, the whole shebang. Yep, it was one underground feat of engineering. We all gaped, and Gimli looked much too smug for my liking.  
  
And then he went apeshit.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
Hey, by the by, here's a little tip. I'm probably going to be updating at all sorts of inopportune times, so if you're seriously following this story, 1) I love you! and 2) either put me on your favourites lead or check back very frequently. 


	21. Just Before the Underground Fight

A/N: Okay. Alright. Here's the deal. I take time out of my very busy schedule (and you better *believe* that my schedule is very busy) to bring you another installment of these delightful adventures, and you take ten seconds to REVIEW. Is that so hard? Do you find that unfair to you??? If not, then why the fuck aren't more people doing it?!?!?!  
  
Disclaimers: The second I transmogrify into J.R.R. Tolkein, I'll let you know.  
  
Chapter 20: Just Before the Underground Fight ~ ~ ~  
  
Gimli ran (waddled) into an adjoining room, screaming and sobbing and wailing about something or another. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" he cried, falling onto his knees in front of a slab of stone. "NOOOOOOO!!!!! Not Cousin Balin!!!!!!!! You can't be dead, dearest cousin, you just can't be!!!!!!!!!! You're not!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Yes, yes he his. Or else will be shortly, because there can't be too much oxygen in that tomb-type thingy there.  
  
Legolas frowned. "Even I find that to be a bit too harsh, Evil Ring..."  
  
"NO! MY COUSIN!!!!!!!!!! There will never be another dwarf like you, Balin! Never!!! No one can equal your skill and daring, and no one is as good at the art of dwarf-loving!"  
  
Eeeeuuuuggghhhhh, nasty!!! You red-neck creep, banging your cousin! That is just the most disgusting thing ever---not only two dwarves naked, but too dwarves naked and *related*. That is, like, a whole new level of 'so gross I wanna rip my eyes out'.  
  
Gimli sniffed. "It wasn't like that! Any sex we had was purely platonic, done out of brotherly love."  
  
Even Legolas looked nauseated by this. And me? If I had legs, I would have been out of there hours ago.  
  
"Well, then," Gandalf said, shaking the appalled look off his face. "I think we've heard enough about Neanderthal dwarf practices to last us several life times." He pushed his way out of the group to stand near Gimli. "Come now, look. I found a big book. I do believe it's the Official Dwarf Records." He opened it up and began to read from it.  
  
Great, just what I want to here all about. How dwarves spend their days. Dear Diary, today, I smelled bad and fucked my cousin.  
  
Gandalf cleared his throat, and started a long and dramatic entry, detailing the attack that left everyone dead. It consisted mostly of "THEY'RE COMING!!!!!!!!!!! RUN FOR THE HIIIIIIIILLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" so I tuned out pretty quickly. Instead, I looked around the chamber. Isn't it strange how your brain ignores things once you become used to them? Like, I'm so used to seeing dead dwarf skeletons everywhere now, they've become part of the average landscape. And my brain just glosses over them, like I don't really see them. I think it would actually feel strange to walk into a skeleton-less room; I'd feel like something was missing. Funny how that is.  
  
"They are coming..." Gandalf finished with that ominous, theatrical voice he was so good at. You know, the one he uses when he tells people that I have the power to rain evil upon the world? Yeah, that one. I felt Frodo shudder, and I looked and saw that everyone looked terrified. Even the O Great Fearless Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, looked a little worried. So perhaps I should be?  
  
Suddenly, a loud, crackling, sharp noise came from the back of the room, and everyone whipped their heads around. Whoa, tense, are we? It was only Pippin, who had sent a dwarf skeleton crashing and jingling, armour and all, down a well that was at least 200 metres deep. Hmm. Good going, Pippin. Try for the stealth approach when dealing with monsters who wiped out a whole entire cousin-fucking clan of dwarves.  
  
Gandalf swore creatively, and then said "Fool of a Took! What have you done now?"  
  
Desecrated the dead? Disrespected a vengeful spirit? Pissed off Gimli? Awoken freaky monsters?  
  
Legolas paled. He must have paled a lot for me to have noticed, because his normal complexion is already pretty white. "We should not linger here," he whispered, turning wide eyes to Aragorn.  
  
A deep rumbling shook the room. Like, literally *shook* the room, like thunder from the deepest depths of hell. You could feel it, hear it, and even taste it. See, guys? This is what true evil is like, NOT ME.  
  
Everyone conveniently ignored me. "Something's coming," Sam pointed out unnecessarily.  
  
Aragorn sent Boromir to check it out, adding "and I hope you don't come back" under his breath, for effect. Legolas and I couldn't help but smile at that, but Merry and Pippin were all worried for his safety. Good god, what did he do to those little things to make them fancy him?  
  
Boromir sidled up against a pillar, Mission:Impossible spy style, and immediately two arrows whizzed by, landing just millimeters from his face. Better luck next time, I wished the archer.  
  
Meanwhile, Legolas's eyes lit up. "Oooh, arrows!" he squealed.  
  
"Baby-love, arrows are only good when they're being shot *from* us, not against us," Aragorn explained carefully.  
  
That's right. And axes are definitely only good when they're being thrown *from* us, and not at us. And orcs are most definitely never good when they're attacking us. Boromir ran back into the room, and slammed the door shut. "Danger," he announced. Must we all be painfully obvious today?  
  
Strider the Heroic Ranger immediately herded all of the tiny hobbits into the back of the room, along with Gandalf. He put Gimli and Boromir near the front (so they'll get shot first), and he situated himself in front of his precious elf. We could hear the small army of orcs getting closer and closer, and the atmosphere was getting pretty nerve-racking in there. Fucking Christ, we were all gonna die before we saw daylight again.  
  
"If anyone has a battle plan, now would be the time to speak up," Aragorn suggested.  
  
We could always rush them and take down as many as we can before they slaughter us, I said brightly.  
  
Gimli, obviously displeased with the idea, yelled, "Are you on drugs?!?!"  
  
No, but I wouldn't say no to some right now, if you've got any.  
  
Frodo shushed me. "Legolas needs to concentrate," he said, pointing to said elf-wonder-boy, who was placing his freakishly accurate aim with his bow and arrow. He was eyeing a little tiny hole in the door. You hush, I said to Frodo.  
  
We go into a whispered 'you!' 'no, you!' fight, and Aragorn turned around and shushed both of us. The time had come. 


	22. Big Fight Scene

A/N: ::makes the usual excuses about SCHOOL:: That place is evil, I tell you. Exams and assignments and projects and stupid teachers who delight in your pain. Curse them all!!! Curse them all to HEL!!!!!!!!!!! Hey, it's my author's notes, I can say whatever the hell I want, right? I noticed that some beloved readers asked me questions, so I suppose I'll answer them now. Yes, the story is moving slowly. So? I feel like it. Some other parts are gonna get glossed over quickly, so it'll all balance out. And yes, I reread LOTR every time I write a new chapter---not the whole book, but just the scene I'm doing. And every now and then I'll re-watch a scene from the movie to see if anyone says a line I can make fun of. And no, there is nothing on this Earth that I can't make sound exceedingly dirty.  
  
Disclaimers: See LOTR. See author. See no connection whatsoever. See Tolkein estate lawyers back away without making a fuss.  
  
Chapter 21: Big Fight Scene ~ ~ ~  
  
The next minute was all very tense. There was silence, and everyone was standing stock-still. Then, all of a sudden, there's this huge loud rumbling, and the ground vibrated with the scraping and scrabbling of many, many feet.  
  
"Oh shit," Aragorn whispered.  
  
Lovely. If the resident he-man is scared, then there's pretty much no hope for the rest of us, right?  
  
Aragorn and Boromir quickly ran up to the door and started blockading it with whatever they could grab. Like that's gonna help. Still, when you're desperate, you'll do anything that might give you an edge. Legolas moved to help. That scrawny little wisp of a boytoy is stronger than he looks. He effortlessly picked up an axe with one hand, and threw it to Boromir. Or perhaps *at* Boromir...I'm still undecided over the matter. Regardless, Boromir caught it, and barred the door with it.  
  
By the time Aragorn and Boromir ran back to stand in front of the group, the orcs were almost at the door. The next few moments were a bit of a blur, but the general gist of it involves lots of manly grunting and thrusting of swords, and arrows whizzing around. Everyone got ready to fight, even old Gandalf and the tiny hobbits. I wasn't much help though, since I had no hands, no powers, no weapons, and no damn idea which side I was supposed to be fighting for. Like, there's the orcs, who work for my master who loves me and would never hurl me into a volcano. But my master's gone kind of nuts ever since he got impaled by Aragorn's great- great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- great-grandfather. Besides, I still kinda wanted to get with Frodo, and I couldn't do that if the orcs killed him. ::sigh:: Decisions, decisions.  
  
While I was busy deciding, the doors broke down and the fighting broke out in earnest. A giant beast thing crashed into the room, lead by this ugly twisted thing (oh, it was an orc) via a collar and chain. It towered several feet over us, roaring and flailing its arms menacingly.  
  
"They have a cave troll!" Boromir screamed as the monster took a swing at us.  
  
No shit!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Sam got all excited, bodily shoving Frodo against a pillar to "protect" him. My ass. Sam, you fucker, hands off the goods! Sam shot me/Frodo's chest a dirty look, but went away.  
  
The whole fight was just basically one big free-for-all. Random hacking and thwacking, and lots of running around screaming. Frodo made the wise decision of hiding us in a corner and letting everyone else do the dirty work. Legolas and Aragorn both looked like they were enjoying it a tad too much, though. Really, did Legolas have to nance around going "hee!" and laughing with joy? Like, I know the elf likes arrows and shooting them, but the whole "This is fun!!!" attitude was too much. And how *does* one manage to still look like a pretty princess while straddling a cave troll's head?  
  
There was a shift in the fight as more orc troops (if the undisciplined thrashings of broken garden gnomes can be called "troops") arrived. The cave troll was left in favour of orc-stabbing, which was a really bad idea. It got bored, and found Frodo and me.  
  
Thus started a long and twisted game of cat-and-mouse. And I thought *yesterday* was a weird day. Today, I get to run around a big stone pillar with a gigantic ball of flab drooling after me. Whee. Fun. Frodo did some fancy manoeuvering, but it just got the troll all frisky. It swatted us out into the open, and STABBED US.  
  
Holy fucking shit. No you didn't. You did not just STAB me. My father (or maker, really, but I'm on a rampage here) will have you killed. If there is even one tiny little scratch on my delectably perfect surface, there will be hell to pay, you ass-ugly barbarian. I cannot believe you just tried to skewer Frodo and me---oh, yeah. Frodo? You alright?  
  
The sweet little hobbit didn't answer. Fuck. Frodo?!?!  
  
Everyone turned at my slightly panicked tone. They fervently killed what orcs remained, and then Legolas finally does his whole big-game hunter thing and nails the motherfucker in the head. The cave troll toppled, nearly squishing Merry and Pippin (damn, so close!). Right, Legolas. Take it down with one arrow *after* it stabs us. Excellent timing.  
  
Aragorn dragged his eyes over his elfei-welfie, giving Legolas a quick once- over to make sure he was okay. Then, he scrambled over to us, Frodo still lying prone on the ground. I wasn't that worried anymore, because I had slid over his chest, closer to his heart, and it was still beating. I figured if there was no blood a pulse was present, he probably just passed out from shock or something. Of course no one listened to me when I tried to point this out. They were halfway in mourning already, all "No, Frodo, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" And of course, it was all about Frodo. Nobody bothered to check if *I* was okay. Hmphf.  
  
Aragorn reached over to grasp Frodo's shoulder. His eyes fluttered open.  
  
"He lives!" Aragorn gasped.  
  
I told you so! But would you believe me? Nooooooo. You didn't even listen long enough to hear what I was saying.  
  
"Shut up, Ring," he said, but almost good-naturedly. Yes, sharing a death- defying experience does that to you, makes you feel almost brotherly towards the people you shared it with. Well, maybe not Gimli. But everyone else, there was this sort of bond that wasn't there before.  
  
"You should be dead!" Aragorn continued, in wonder.  
  
Thank you, Strider. Thank you for that sentiment. I think Gimli should be dead too, but we can't always have what we want, now can we?  
  
"No! I mean, Frodo, that would've skewered a wild boar! How did you survive that?"  
  
Frodo looked up blearily. Aragorn reached into the hobbit's shirt.  
  
Ho! Stop right there, Ranger boy! Aren't you happily attached to not one, but two lovely elves? Leave the hobbit to me!  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes, grasping Frodo's collar to reveal shiny armour. Oh.  
  
"It's Mithril!" Gimli gasped. "The finest chain mail ever made!"  
  
Everyone looked muchly impressed. By the fact that Frodo had chain mail on. It's not like he made it...he didn't even buy it! His uncle gave it to him, and told him to put it on. It's not like he survived by deflecting the spear with his bare chest. Come on! *I* had no Mithril on, and I'm still alive! Does anyone care?!?!?!  
  
They all ignored me. Before I could complain some more, though, a distant rumbling started up again. Aw, fuck, not more! There is no way in hell we can survive another one of those attacks.  
  
Gandalf agreed. He straightened his pointy hat in a business-like way, holding up his wizard light-on-a-stick. "To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!!!"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
PS- Hey, since my big exam period is over, I shan't be busy for a little while. You can look forward to more regular updates from yours truly. Ooh, and don't forget to review! 


	23. In Between the Fight and Something Else

A/N: I may've said something in passing about regular reviews. ...Yeah. Sorry about that, everyone, but I was jumped by a sudden bout of busy-ness. I'm back, though, with promises for *consecutive weeks* with updates. Haven't seen those for a while, eh? But hey, 'tis the season. Consider it a gift from yours truly.  
  
Special Shoutout: To Chaosti, for always sticking with this. Thanks a million for the reviews---they always bring a smile. And I didn't notice until now, but you're from way back in my "Q & A" days! Hello!  
  
Disclaimers: Ohh yeah, I'm so brave, so daring. Watch me! Look, ma, no disclaimer!  
  
Chapter 22: In Between the Fight and Something More Exciting ~ ~ ~  
  
Alright, "to the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!!!" may *sound* like a good plan, but in practice, it was a liiiiiiiiiittle less clear-cute. The inside of a dwarf mine is like a demented labyrinth from architecture hell, okay? Beautiful, ornate, and abso-fucking-lutely senseless. We ran helter- skelter through like five billion hallways, and up some stairs, down some stairs, through secret passages, into rooms, out of rooms---Gandalf, dude, please. Do you even know where the bridge is?  
  
"Actually," he panted as we ran, "Gimli knows this place better than I do, so we are technically following his instructions."  
  
Wait, wait, hold up. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?  
  
"I said, we are technically following Gim---"  
  
I heard you the first time! Although I wish I hadn't!!! Dammit, we're following that half-brained disgrace to noble dwarves everywhere? He's probably leading us to the nearest rotting food source or something! How the hell do you know we're going the right way?!?! We could be running *away* from the bridge, for all anyone knows. This is insane! This is stupid!!!  
  
"Ring," Legolas said grimly, not winded at all from all the running. "If I am willing to take the chance, I am dragging everybody with me. Including you."  
  
Oh great, the Ranger's fucktoy all of a sudden decides to go from the considerate one to the "If I have to die, so does everyone else" one.  
  
"I hate to interrupt this...delightful conversation," Frodo said, not seeming to hate it at all, "but do you hear rumbling?"  
  
Aragorn and Boromir twisted around. And swallowed audibly. "Don't look now, but there are swarms of orcs closing in on us from every direction," Boromir said. We all looked.  
  
Oh fuck.  
  
I didn't even know there were that many living things on this planet. There were literally tens of thousands of those twitchy little varmints, covering everything like flies at a picnic. They screeched and hollered and drooled. And we were surrounded by them. They crowded us into a small circle, our backs to each other so that we could face them on all sides. Y'know, musk oxen go into this defensive position too...right before they get EATEN BY WOLVES.  
  
"I feel I speak for everyone here when I say shut the hell up, Ring," Aragorn said, losing his stoic cool. He quickly regained it, and drew his sword. Legolas drew an arrow. I looked around at the gazillions of orcs surrounding us. Oh yeah, Legolas, that's really gonna help. He spared a second to roll his eyes at me.  
  
I could feel everyone shaking, all of us about to piss ourselves. Well, all of us except Legolas. His shaking was of a different kind, more of a gleeful, excited shaking, because yay, yet another opportunity for him to inflict violence with his arrows. Joy.  
  
"Everyone?"  
  
We all turned towards Pippin to shush him. But he simply pointed in the direction of another one of those huge corridors. "What's that?"  
  
There was a bright, devilish light, getting bigger and bigger like some giant flaming creature was coming closer. Unless Sauron suddenly learned my handy trick of rolling around freely, we are in deep shit.  
  
"We'd be in deep shit anyway, if it were Sauron," Boromir grumbled.  
  
Well, excuuuuuse me for siding with my creator and the one guy who doesn't want to kill me.  
  
"Now, now children," Aragorn admonished sarcastically. "I believe the current situation calls for more of our attention."  
  
The glowing light drew even closer, and all the orcs quieted. And then they all ran away and left us there to deal with whatever the hell was coming. We all looked at each other, and made our very first unanimous decision. We ran too.  
  
Did I mention that I HATE running? Hate it. Abhor it. Detest it. Loathe it. If it were a person, I would kill it. In fact, my hatred for it runs so deeply that---  
  
"Good God, you're not even running. You're around my neck," Frodo said between his strides.  
  
Exactly! Do you know what it's like to bounce around like this? Do you know those big plastic globes they use for Bingo? They put all the little numbers inside, and grind it around so that those numbers go tumbling around. It's kinda like that. Only sometimes, you get suffocated by the material of someone's shirt. Or you whack his chin. Not that you don't have a lovely chin, of course, because you do. But during all this bouncing, the bony part of a chin isn't exactly the most comfortable place to hit.  
  
"Ring," Aragorn sounded like he was gritting his teeth.  
  
Yes?  
  
"Please..."  
  
I'm coping. Complaining is my defense mechanism. It's either that, or murder you all with my non-existent powers and roll all the way to Sauron myself.  
  
They all chose to ignore me. We kept running, and then all of a sudden we heard Boromir shout. We stumbled through an intricate stone archway to see him balance precariously on the edge of a 400-foot drop.  
  
I'll give Legolas the benefit of the doubt. The elf spent a lot of time with Strider, after all. Maybe all of that heroicness rubbed off on him, like a contagious disease or something. Maybe he just couldn't help it, and acted out of pure instinct. He sprang forward and grabbed Boromir around the shoulders, pulling him back to safety.  
  
There was a moment of silence as everyone, even the glowy-thing and the Gollum-thing following us, all contemplated the weight of what the elf of Mirkwood had just done.  
  
Boromir looked relieved, yet shocked. Legolas looked traumatized.  
  
"Dear heavens, what have I done?!" he exclaimed in his effeminate voice. His voice was shaky. "I could have---by gods, he was on the brink of death right in front of me! I could have rid us all of this nuisance, and make it look like an accident. Instead, I-I-I saved him! *Him*!!! That dirty rascal who dares insult my noble Elfstone and who will not stop ogling my firm posterior. I let the chance slip through my fingers!" He sounded like he was going to cry.  
  
Aragorn quickly wrapped him up in a hug. You could tell Legolas was reeeeaally upset, because they didn't start shagging like bunnies right away.  
  
There there, now. We all make mistakes. The important thing is to not repeat them. The next time Boromir loses his balance on a jagged ledge, nudge him over.  
  
Sam cleared his throat. "Well, it's good to see that the Company of Nine is so concerned with each other's welfare. Really, what would we do without this sense of team unity?"  
  
Gandalf looked deeply engrossed in thinking. He stared at the broken stone staircases, already narrow but now also crumbling, long drops to death and molten lava on either side. "Aragorn," he mused. The Ranger looked up from over Legolas's shoulder. "Should anything happen to me, you must lead them on," he said cryptically. Aragorn nodded.  
  
Excuse me. Gandalf. You are NOT planning to take a dive off a bridge on me, are you? Because you can't. You're the only one who knows I'm innocent and harmless. You're my only chance of coming out of this alive without me having to grovel embarrassingly in front of Sauron. Without you, they'll throw me into a volcano. Even Legolas isn't that nice. He'll do whatever Aragorn wants, and the wet psycho wants me dead, okay?  
  
"With luck, Al, we'll all be fine," he replied grimly.  
  
Great. Luck. Because, y'know, our journey's been full of that stuff. And right on cue to my sarcastic comment, the stairs we were walking on began to collapse. And for added fun, arrows began to whiz at us from above. Yay.  
  
Yup, I can feel that luck kicking in already.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
Extra A/N: I re-read the book, and I've decided I like book-Legolas a lot more than the movie-Legolas. He's more fun. That's why he has a bigger part now. But I still hate Boromir. 


	24. Gandalf Falls into a Hole

A/N: Arrrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!! I had this all typed up on Wednesday, but my concert band performance went until 9:00 pm and so I had no time to post it, and I refuse to post after Thursday because too many people update on the weekends. So sorry!!! Okay, I've got a lot of questions and comments to address here. First of all, why do I enjoy bashing Boromir so? Well, he annoys the hell outta me, that's why. The lady doth protest too much. Things are always melodramatic with him, worrying about this and that, always arguing and frowning and pondering. It makes my head hurt. And anyone who gives me a headache is a prime target for mockery. Speaking of melodramatic, why do I like book-Legolas more than movie-Legolas? Same reason. In the book, he actually shows some semblance of emotions other than 'tense,' 'watchful,' and 'grim'. In the book, he's cute. In fact, that goes for all the characters in LOTR. In the books, they exhibit joy every now and then, while in the movies, their lives are just never-ending angst-fests. And no, I won't be putting in songs the way the books do. And the whole question of Legolas's supply of arrows will be discussed in this chapter, and then perhaps will be addressed in more detail in a near- future chapter. I actually have a scene planned out for that, but I don't know if it'll make the cut when I edit.  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own LOTR...it owns me. I'm a slave to it, I tell you, SLAAAAAAAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Chapter 23: Gandalf Falls into a Hole  
  
The staircase split right in front of our very eyes, and a large chunk of it fell away to leave a giant, gaping fissure centimetres our feet. Or, their feet, really, since I don't have feet and am dangling in midair. But screw the technicalities. We were in some deep shit here.  
  
"Jump!" Legolas cried, leaping over the gaping hole and landing soundlessly on the other side. He turned and looked at us expectantly. We all gave him variations of the same one-eyebrow-raised look. Yeah, right. You expect us to just soar over like that? Aragorn will try, but not the rest of us. An orc screeched from above, and shot an arrow that whizzed by Frodo's ear and nearly took it off. Oooookay, there's some motivation for us to try, but---another arrow came, this time impaling Gandalf's pointy hat. Okay, okay, we're jumping!  
  
The rest of the Company went one by one, so that eventually I was left with Frodo and Aragorn on our side of the ever-widening gap. The arrows were flying at us with more intensity, and every now and then Aragorn had to reach out and whack them away with his big sword to keep them from hitting us. Legolas kept his attention on Aragorn, but was shooting back the orcs. He managed to kill two with one arrow without even looking. He shot Gimli a cocky grin that was dismissed.  
  
Another section of the stone stairs fell off. "Strider..." Frodo whimpered poutily. Aragorn slipped an arm around him. Watch it, I still want a shot at him, I warned half-heartedly.  
  
"Frodo, you have to trust me. We cannot jump now, for the gap is too wide. We have to wait for the right moment, for our one opportunity. We'll need perfect timing, and you will have to put your faith in me."  
  
*My* hobbit looked up at the damned Ranger with glowing eyes, and nodded. "What is the plan?"  
  
"As the stairs continue to crumble, their foundation will break and cause them to be off balance. We will take advantage of this, throwing the balance in our favour and send our side crashing into the other side."  
  
Do you realize that's FUCKING NUTS?!?!?! I tried not to sound too hysterical. I have to trust my would-be murderers and take part in some crazy-ass plan that could end up with me falling into a fiery pit?!?!  
  
"Well, we *are* going to throw you into a fiery pit later on. This just happens to be the wrong fiery pit, that's all," Frodo said brightly. Dear hobbit, you have been such a comfort during these dangerous times.  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I know you haven't had a lot of experience in the field of heroic deeds, Frodo, but that is not the type of thing one says when we are all just trying to get out of this alive."  
  
Thank you, Aragorn.  
  
"Even though we probably won't get out alive," Frodo added cheerfully.  
  
...This is depressing. Can we just jump into the fire and put ourselves out of our misery?  
  
"Evil Ring! Do not even dare to imply that my sweet Elessar cannot live through this!" Legolas admonished.  
  
Me? Have you been listening??? Frodo's the doubter here.  
  
"Both of you, then. Do not think that---ooh!" Legolas interrupted himself to look at the orc arrow that had flew in from somewhere and embedded itself in the rock, millimetres from his foot. "Look! 'Tis a Cerberon 12X! Excellently balanced and centred." He picked it up and pocketed it with obvious delight.  
  
So *that's* where they all come from! I thought it was some fancy elf- magic that kept your quiver stocked 24/7, but no, you filch them off of others!  
  
He picked up a different arrow off the stairs, notched it, and fired. An orc screamed and cursed and flailed his arms, then went careening into the depths of the fiery hole. "Well, it is not as though that Yrch will be needing his arrow back anymore."  
  
Another tremor shook our side of the stairs, and Aragorn announced, "It is time."  
  
We all braced ourselves. We all leaned forwards, and willed the stairs to fall into the other side. Without crushing the people on the other side. We waited and leaned, and waited and leaned. And suddenly, it happened. We jumped.  
  
Legolas quickly steadied us, and he and his pussy-whipped Ranger shared a meaningful look. Sam tried to share one with Frodo, but failed. "Quickly now, to the Bridge!" Gandalf said, hurrying us along what was left of the narrow staircase.  
  
"See, Ring? I told you to trust in me," Aragorn murmured smugly. Damn. I'm never gonna hear the end of it now.  
  
We scurried along, dodging arrows and watching our step carefully. "We have come to the Bridge of Khazad-dûm," Gandalf announced grandly.  
  
Dude. You call that a *bridge*?!?!?!?! Have you *seen* a bridge?!?! That is not a bridge. That is a little itty-bitty slab of rock slung across a giant canyon as an afterthought, when it occurred to the dwarves that they'd need to get back for dinner. That is not a bridge. And that is not something that we're gonna cross. No way in hell, man.  
  
Legolas gripped Frodo's hand firmly and began pulling him across. "Unfortunately, you have very little say in the matter. You are merely an adornment on Frodo's neck, and wherever his neck goes, you must follow."  
  
Ah, godammit. Frodo, if you fall and we have to live out the rest of our days in a dark cave with zombie-dwarves and scary troll-monsters, I will never speak to you again.  
  
"That's supposed to be a threat of some kind? It seems more like a bribe to tempt me to fall," he retorted.  
  
"Come on, less chit-chat, more running," Gandalf said, whacking at our heels with his big stick. We complied, and ran. We were juuuuust about to make it across, without any casualties whatsoever. So of course something horribly bad had to happen, to counter our moment of rare good luck.  
  
A giant fire demon thing rose from the canyon and began its own private war with Gandalf. Just out of the blue, just like that. "A Balrog!"  
  
The crazy geezer waved us on. Apparently, he was gonna try to fight the thingy by himself. We watched from a safe distance, while I quietly freaked. Dammit, what the hell? You have a fucking responsibility to keep me alive, Gandalf!!! Don't you dare do this to me now! The giant fire thingy paid no heed to me, and neither did Gandalf. For a moment, it looked as though he would win. He did some fancy trick with his big stick, causing the bridge to crack and part of it to break away with the Balrog still on it. But then the Balrog unfurled its long whip-thing and dragged Gandalf down with it. They both disappeared into the pitch blackness below.  
  
There was nothing but shocked silence. "Well, the whip was kind of kinky..." Boromir began. That snapped me out of my trance.  
  
Dammit!!! Frodo, you can't just leave him to die!!!!! He's *Gandalf*, for fuck's sakes! He's practically like an uncle to you! You have to help him! (I figured, hey, if it worked for everybody else, I could use the line about the whole "duty to mankind" to get Frodo to do what I wanted.) It's your duty to the Shire! You owe it to your people! Come on, do something!!!!!!!!!  
  
And it worked. Frodo started forward. But then Aragorn the meddler just had to grab him. "No! Gandalf knew what he was doing. He has passed the leadership on to me, and I say that we move on."  
  
No!  
  
"Yes!" Aragorn said firmly.  
  
NO!!!!!!  
  
"YES!" he roared.  
  
No, god-fucking-dammit, NO!!!  
  
Gimli jumped in quickly. "Oh look, stairs leading to the great outdoors. Wouldn't you like to be outside again? And the hobbits must be hungry. We can make a fire outside, and cook."  
  
"Yes, Gimli's right. We're all starving, let's go." Boromir bodily dragged both Aragorn and Frodo (and, by association, me) up the stairs and out of the wretched dwarf mines.  
  
We all stood, and let the wind caress our faces. At least, those of us who weren't *swaddled in someone else's shirt* did.  
  
"Alright already! Sorry," Frodo unbuttoned his collar and let me breathe.  
  
I don't accept your apology! You let the wizard die! And for that, you will never be forgiven.  
  
"Shut up!" Aragorn called. "We're trying to mourn over here!" He made a wide sweeping gesture to indicate the others, who were all in various stages of crying.  
  
You have no right, fuckers! You all *let* him die!!! I hate you all!!!!!  
  
"If you do not shut up, I will cry with my big puppy dog eyes," Frodo threatened.  
  
Aragorn rolled his eyes and rubbed at his temples. "Get them up, Legolas," he ordered his bitch. Boromir looked like he would protest, but Aragorn said "We must move on to somewhere safer, put some distance between ourselves and the evil following us. We also need a place to rest for the night." Legolas did his bidding, to the surprise of all...not.  
  
We all began walking towards a forest in the distance, where Aragorn claimed we'd be safe. His idea of safe involved holing up in a tree and eating swamp bugs and sleeping with one eye open, so we didn't really know what to think. Walking to the forest meant covering a lot of grassy terrain and crossing a lot of streams. Merry and Pippin quickly forgot their grief, and started running around like maniacs again. Aragorn was right in his element, his perpetually wet hair even wetter than usual and looking appropriately rugged and manly with some dirt smeared on his cheek. I was just beginning to enjoy being outside again, when Sam had to open his big fat mouth.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"To Lothlórien," Legolas replied, making it sound as though it was the most wonderful paradise on this or any other Earth.  
  
Shit. Yet another concentration of immortal elves with aims to kill me. And we were without Gandalf this time, so there'd be no one to stop them from melting me down and re-casting me as a doorknocker, should it strike their fancy to do so. Dammit Frodo, why didn't you fall off that bridge?  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~TBC 


	25. Entering the Woods

A/N: Okay, here's the deal. I was writing midterms, which is why I haven't updated for an embarrassingly long time. I've been studying, working really hard and whatnot, but now my exams are finally over! Meaning more frequent updates, hopefully. I know I'm notoriously bad with updating on time, but if you truly love me, you'll bear with me. Quick shout-outs to Destria for following me all the way from the nasty Fandomination.net, Volinde for reviewing despite hating to, and Chaosti for remember the name of Gandalf's hat.  
  
PS- there's a surprise for y'all at the end of this chappie ^__  
  
Disclaimers: Hi, my name is J.R.R. Tolkein, I own everything in the LOTR universe, and I am now writing a strange parody of my own creation in a completely different writing style. ...And you thought I was dead. Pfft.  
  
Chapter 24: Entering the Woods  
  
"Lothlórien is one of the last great elven cities. The magic here is ancient, even by the standards of immortals. All within the land fall under the watchful eye of the Lady of the Wood, whose power is so strong that I cannot even begin to explain. The forests of Lórien are enchanted, with an awe-inspiring beauty that brings forth wonder in even the hardest of hearts. In the autumn, when the leaves turn to gold, the woods become so beautiful that one can hardly stand it; men have been known to fall to their knees at the extraordinary sight of it. Lothlórien is---"  
  
Alright, what are you, their Minister of Tourism?!  
  
"No," Legolas pouted. "It is only that I have yearned to see Lothlórien since I was but a child. Ever since I was young, I have been struck by the tales of this glorious city, the magnificent realm of---"  
  
Okay, okay! You like this place. Got it. Thank you.  
  
"You know what I have heard?" Gimli leaned in to whisper to Frodo and me. "This Lady of the Woods woman is a psycho. She has the power to turn anybody who is not an elf into her slaves. And she does. These magic forests are very dangerous. In fact, we should never have come at all."  
  
Legolas sniffed indignantly, looking insulted. "I will have you know, Dwarf, that these woods are the safest thing for miles---surely much less dangerous than your dwarf mines, from whence we came."  
  
Before Gimli could come up with a snappy comeback, all of us suddenly found ourselves surrounded by a bunch of Legolas-clones wielding sharp arrows. Whoa now, boys, no need to pull out your toys. We're only looking for a place to stay for the night.  
  
"Haldir," Aragorn greeted the leader of the Legolas-clone pleasantly.  
  
"The Lady of the Woods wishes to see you. *All* of you," he replied, glaring straight at Frodo. Oh wait, he's glaring straight at me! What does she want with me?!  
  
"You bring great evil to this place, Frodo of the Shire," a whispery but sort of sexy voice murmured, cutting through the trees eerily. And that would be the Lady, I assume. The immortal lady with psychic abilities who thinks I'm evil, even though she's never met me. The lady who waaaaants me. Wait, have I met you before? Have I done you?  
  
"What?"  
  
Y'know, have I banged you? Gone out with you? Shown you the privilege of my sweet, sweet love? Because it's been a while, and my lifespan's really long...I can't really remember all the ladies I've had.  
  
"Excuse me?!?! You have most certainly never 'banged' me, thankyouverymuch," the luscious psychic voice boomed. Haldir looked annoyed.  
  
...Would you like me to?  
  
All eyes, immortal or otherwise, turned to me.  
  
"Ring, I just *know* that you're not crudely hitting on the highly- respected Lady of the Woods," Aragorn said, looking at me pointedly.  
  
Frodo coughed, looking embarrassed. He flicked me. Ow, what? I can't even try for her? A guy gets desperate, okay? And it's not like you're putting out any, Mister Baggins.  
  
"Ring!" Sam was horrified. "Mr. Frodo is not that kind of person!"  
  
Yeah, he's not that kind of person for *you*, Samwise! And I don't blame him.  
  
"What are you implying?" Sam asked testily, pretending to not be lusting after Frodo. Even though everyone already knows. The whole Company, all the orcs, Gollum, that Balrog back there, the elves around us, the moss under our feet---we can all tell you're just waiting for the first chance to jump Frodo.  
  
"I am not! Mr. Frodo, you musn't believe him!"  
  
Aragorn made that exasperated sound that means he wants to stab us all repeatedly. Haldir cleared his throat. "The Lady awaits," he ventured, sounding less eager to lead us into the woods.  
  
We were escorted through a long and complicated series of winding paths and staircases that eventually lead to some sort of glasshouse/pagoda/courtyard- looking sort of building-ish type thing. It was covered with little vines and flowers, and had a kind of magical glow about it.  
  
"Oooooh...pretty!" Merry and Pippin stared, jaws slack with awe. Boromir nudged them out of their trance when they started drooling.  
  
"Here dwell the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel of Lothlórien," Haldir said majestically, somehow managing not to get tripped up in the long tangle of ridiculously fancy elf-names. We went forth to meet them.  
  
Whoooaaaaa, Galadriel, baby! Aren't you a beautiful thang?  
  
Celeborn looked affronted. Haldir looked affronted. All the other elves looked affronted. In fact, everyone but Boromir looked affronted. Boromir looked like he was thinking along the same lines I was.  
  
A couple of elves moved forward to shut me up. "No, leave it be. I shall ignore him and remain professional," Galadriel said regally.  
  
You're classy...I like that!  
  
Everyone (except Boromir) whirled to glare at me. Frodo sighed, and without a word, tucked me into his shirt. Hey, I was just *complimenting* her--- Gimli called her a psycho witch back there, and no one's punishing him!  
  
True to her word, Galadriel ignored me. She launched into a long speech instead, about how Sauron was regaining power and how important the quest to KILL ME was. She observantly mentioned that Gandalf was missing.  
  
No shit, I grumbled from the confines of Frodo's shirt. Took you that long to notice?  
  
Aragorn told her he got into a fight with a Balrog, and was probably still back there fighting for all we know. Galadriel nodded sagely, and then told us that we were in danger and had to be careful. Then, she looked into the eyes of each one of the others and did freaky mind things to them. She couldn't do it to me, though, because I don't have a brain in the normal sense of anatomy. I could still hear what she was doing, though. The Lady of the Woods used her telekinetic powers to talk to eight people at once, so it was hard for me to eavesdrop, but the general gist of it was this: she'd show them their greatest weakness, and they'd hang their head in shame.  
  
And then that was it. We were dismissed.  
  
Okay, so you dragged us all the way up here so that you could tell us that our trip is dangerous and then embarrass us? That's it?!?!?!  
  
Aragorn tapped Frodo on the shoulder and jerked his head to indicate a discreet corner of the...whatever we were in. "Frodo? A word with the Ring, please?"  
  
Frodo complied, and Aragorn fished me out, dangling me inches in front of his face. "Listen to me closely, Ring. You cannot just go around antagonizing everyone you meet, okay? You keep on insisting that you're not evil. That's all well and good, but how are we supposed to believe you when you keep on making enemies? That attitude is going to put us in deep trouble, even deeper than the trouble we're already in. You have to stop and learn to keep silent sometimes, alright?"  
  
Yes, father.  
  
"I'm serious, Ring. We're getting into the thick of this really fast. I don't have time to put up with your crap."  
  
Look, Strider, Aragorn, Elessar, Elfstone, whatever the fuck you wanna be called. I really respect you. I do. I know I don't act like it, but I actually do. But you have to keep in mind that I'm a PRISONER, okay? You KIDNAPPED me, and you plan to MURDER me. Excuuuuuse me if I'm a little snarky. This attitude of mine has been the only thing keeping me alive for centuries. If you're gonna try to assassinate me, don't expect me to just take it. You can give me as many ultimatums as you want, but *nothing* is going to make me your little docile hostage, okay?  
  
"Well. Now that we've aired out our feelings, do you suppose we can all come to a compromise?" Frodo looked back and forth between me and the Ranger.  
  
Aragorn sighed, caught between his duty to make peace and his urge to smack me. "Fine. The Ring may continue its foul-mouthed ways, as long as none of them are directed to Lady Galadriel. Not while we're still within her realm, anyway. Because we are her *guests*, and this is an *honour*. Will you agree to that, Ring?"  
  
Yes. I'll be polite to the Lady while we're here, okay? Happy?  
  
"Yes. Especially since you mentioned you respect me," Aragorn smirked.  
  
Don't ever bring that up again, or I'll take it back, I warned.  
  
The three of us returned to the rest of the Company, conflict more or less resolved. "We have decided to spend the night here," Legolas began.  
  
Haldir interrupted. "No, *we* have decided to *let* you spend the night here," he corrected haughtily, giving Gimli a dirty look.  
  
"I do not have to take this insolence from an elf!" Gimli roared, face turning red. The elf standing closest to him mimed the action of shooting an arrow at his head. "Thank you for the accomodations," Gimli said, subdued.  
  
We were shown to 'Hotel Lothlórien', a.k.a. a clearing beneath the canopy some giant trees, with cozy nooks and crannies in the roots and trunks in which we were expected to burrow like rodents. I'm sure Gimli and the hobbits felt right at home.  
  
The second it got dark, some elves started chanting in the distance. Dude, are they like practicing voodoo? They're trying to hex us, aren't they?  
  
"Um, no. It is a song of mourning for Gandalf the Gray," Legolas explained. He gave a delicate sniffle.  
  
"There, there," Aragorn hugged him. And then just like that, they were making out.  
  
Okay, then. Time for us to go to bed, huh, Frodo?  
  
"Indeed." He climbed into a hollow tree, wrapping us snugly with his blankets. We were quiet, waiting for sleep to come, when we began to hear...sounds. Like, wet sounds, coupled with moaning and grunting. Argh, Aragorn and Shagolas are at it again!  
  
Frodo hushed me. "Maybe they'll stop soon." Yeah, I don't think so. The sounds continued, and then a rhythmic thumping started dangerously close to our tree. Christ, the smut-bunnies are doing it right beside us!!! I can't stand this, Frodo. If I have to listen to one more second of this, I'm gonna go insane, and you're gonna have to put up with a psychopathic-me instead of just annoying-me.  
  
"Alright already!" he stumbled out of the hollow. Don't look at the hole next to ours, I cautioned him. "I'm not," he assured me. "We'll just go out for a little walk. Perhaps they'll be finished when we come back."  
  
Good plan. And with that, we started down one of the many twisting paths leading away from the clearing.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
Okay, everyone. Here's your surprise: LoTR fanart!!! Yes, I drew fanart. It's based on the characterizations in "Alfonso the Ring," but it's not an actual scene from the fic. Just a companion piece really, but you can picture it happening during any chapter of the fic. Anyhow, copy-paste the URL to your address bar and take a look, and tell me what you think! ?pid=47127 


	26. Elf Lady Goes Nutters

A/N: I've decided to take a chance and update on a Thursday night, even if it is rather close to the disgustingly busy weekend. See, I already had this chapter all lined up and ready on Tuesday, but during the school day I got blindsided by a physics exam. My teacher thought it'd be funny if he gave us a surprise exam, and only told us the day before. So, I had to set aside more important things like fanfiction in order to cram like hell. But yeah, y'all probably don't care, so we'll move on. Oh, about the fanart. It was ff.net's fault, not mine---I complained to them so much that they fixed it last week. So I'll be putting up the link again, at the bottom of the chapter...let's hope it works this time.  
  
Disclaimers: If I were J.R.R. Tolkein, I'd be way too busy using my money and power to crush the weak to be here writing this story.  
  
Chapter 26: Elf-Lady Goes Nutters ~ ~ ~  
  
This place is actually a lot nicer at night. Everyone's in bed, for one, so there's no creepy soundless elves to follow us around, stalking us and marking our every move. Like we're gonna steal something, or make secret plans to burn down the forest. They're very paranoid, those elves. And look at the way the moon's reflecting off of everything. See? Very nice. And the shadows over there, cast by---  
  
"Would you hush?" Frodo stuck me inside his shirt. "And how do you always fall out of my shirt, anyway?"  
  
Well if you'd stop tucking me in there, I wouldn't even have to tell you that, now would I? A guy gets tired of being smothered in cotton, blind to the world and ignorant of what's happening. Not that it's not just absolutely wonderful to be pressed against your skin, of course. It's just that there are other parts of your skin I could be pressed up against...your lips, for example, or your---  
  
Frodo shushed me.  
  
What?  
  
He pulled me back out of his shirt so I could see. It was Lady Galadriel, looking as beautiful as ever, walking in barefoot towards a pool. She dipped a jug in, drawing up some water, which she then took over to a silver basin. Hey, sweet, is she getting ready to bathe?  
  
"Should we leave? This looks rather private," Frodo whispered.  
  
Hell no!!! There's a chance she could be taking a bath. Do you know what happens when someone takes a bath? They get naked! We are staying right here until she gets naked.  
  
She looked up and saw us. "Do you wish to look in the pool?" she asked irrelevantly.  
  
Frodo blinked. "Um, no...?"  
  
"Yes you do," she decided. "Come look at the pool."  
  
Frodo looked around for a means of escape, but couldn't find an excuse way that wasn't too obvious. "Okay..." He shuffled forward, not too willingly, and looked half-heartedly into the basin. Nothing happened. After several minutes of staring at clear, still water, Frodo asked "What am I looking at?"  
  
"Things that have passed, things that are," she paused dramatically. "And some things that will be."  
  
Frodo eyed the water. A gentle breeze came by, slightly rippling its surface. That was the most exciting thing that happened to it for about ten minutes. "I do not see anything," Frodo finally said, looking at her.  
  
The Lady of the Lake raised her eyebrows. "You do not see the fall of the Shire? You do not see your friends and loved ones being torn from their homes? You do not see the bloody carnage of a world ravaged by tragedy? You do not see the Dark Lord's power, horrible and cruel, taking over the world with the power of the Ring?!!!"  
  
A cricket chirped in the distance. The basin of water sat there, bored. Frodo cleared his throat. "Uh, no."  
  
"Well you should," she said, her eerily deep eyes drilling into Frodo's eerily large ones. "For that is what will happen in the future, if you fail."  
  
::coughcoughLUNATICcough:: I nudged Frodo and whispered, Someone's not quite right in the head, if ya know what I mean...  
  
The Lady continued, "Frodo Baggins, you must not fail! If you fail, everything you love will turn to ashes!"  
  
Frodo paled. Noooooo! She got to him, with that 'do your duty or else the Shire is in deep shit' stuff! "If you ask it of me, I will give you the Ring," he said, offering me up on his palm. Don't you dare, Frodo, DO NOT DARE.  
  
"I will admit that my heart desires it," she said, reaching out for me.  
  
Oh, and you couldn't have desired me back when I thought you were sane, and was actually attracted to you? You have to desire me now, now that I can see you're abso-fucking-lutely *NUTS*, and am really really reeeeeaally afraid of you?!  
  
Frodo moved closer, offering me up to the psycho.  
  
She snapped. She just started *freaking*, raising her arms above her head and speaking with this weird voice, like she was doing an impression of a really powerful god. And good lord, is she *glowing*? "In place of the Dark Lord, you would have a queen, not dark, but beautiful, and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love me...and despair!!!"  
  
......  
  
Ooooookay. Well. If you're quite finished singing your own praises and talking about how incredible you are, we'll just mosey on out of here.  
  
"I have passed the test. I will now diminish, and go to the West," she mumbled, making perfect sense.  
  
Do you believe me now, hobbit-boy? See? She's delusional and schizophrenic and psychotic, not to mention weird as all get-out.  
  
"Yeah," Frodo muttered, putting me back on around his neck, finally seeing the truth. "We should go," he whispered, attempting to tiptoe back up the path we came from while Galadriel's back was turned.  
  
She whirled around. "Ring-bearer! Bearer of the Ring of power!"  
  
Frodo froze. What, you answer to that now? Weird. That's, like, worse than when Legolas calls Strider "Elfstone". And it's almost as bad as when Strider calls Legolas "Lovebunny" or whatever. "I am going to hit you," Frodo warned. Fine, I'll be quiet.  
  
"Frodo Baggins, your task is difficult. The quest is fragile, and the Company is starting to fall apart. You must persevere and accomplish what you have set out to do, for it is the only way."  
  
"But I cannot do it alone," Frodo said wistfully, forgetting for a moment that he was talking to a nutbag who won't give him any helpful advice.  
  
"To be a ring-bearer means to be alone," she said, nodding wisely.  
  
Hey, doesn't being a ring-bearer actually mean being that guy at the weddings who have the rings on a little lace pillow? "Just humour the madwoman," Frodo said to me quietly, while nodding to Galadriel. "Yes," he said to her, very seriously, "it is a burden I must bear."  
  
She smiled serenely, curtsied, climbed up a tree, and disappeared.  
  
"*Don't* even say anything," Frodo said, already walking back to where my Fellowship was sleeping.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn had finished shagging, thank god. Aragorn was sitting on a log, enjoying the clichéd post-coital smoke. He smiled when he saw us, taking the pipe out of his mouth to say "Lovely evening for a walk, is it not?"  
  
Maybe for someone who just banged a gorgeous elf prince, I grumbled.  
  
"Now, now, what is it that brings such a negative tone into your voice, and such a black look onto Frodo's sweet face?"  
  
Well, I'd tell you, but you made me promise not to diss the Lady while we're still in her Woods.  
  
Aragorn looked at Frodo inquisitively.  
  
Go ahead, Frodo, do the honours.  
  
"Lady Galadriel is insane," he blurted out. Straight and to the point.  
  
"Well, yes, she is a little eccentric, but she is an elf of high power, and we must allow her some little oddities."  
  
"Strider, she is not a 'little' eccentric, and her oddities are rather large. She scares me. She scares Merry and Pippin. She scares the Ring. And though he may not admit it, she really scares Boromir."  
  
Boromir? Well, at least she's good for something...  
  
Aragorn tapped out his pipe and pushed himself up. "We will leave soon then, if this place is so uncomfortable for you. A few days more, when we've had sufficient rest, and we will leave."  
  
And never come back, I hope.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
That chapter had a lot of dialogue, and very little else. Sorry if anyone really hated that, but I felt like writing dialogue, so. Yeah, hey, my fanart! Let's see if ff.net really did fix the problem. I'm going to put the URL here, and hope it shows check it out and give me feedback on the picture and the chapter! 


	27. Leaving the Woods

A/N: I planned to post this today, but then I remembered that I had to stay at school til like nine for a band performance. Therefore, I'm typing this up during my spare, and therefore this chapter will be very very short. But it's better than nothing, right? Right?!?! Okay. We've been luckless with the link to my fanart. I've come up with a somewhat clever solution---instructions are at the end of the chapter. Also, one more matter of importance. I'm looking for a secretary. Anyone interested in helping me manage my fanfiction affairs? Your duties will include (but not be limited to) reminding me to update, finding me other archives on the Net where I can post this, spreading the word about this fic, et cetera et cetera. In return, you'll get the honour of working with me (ha!) and all sorts of spiffy tidbits like sneak previews. Anyone who's interested can e- mail me at masterchallenge@hotmail.com (if that didn't show up, look for my e-mail address on my profile) and put "secretary" or something equally obvious as the subject, so that I won't delete it as junkmail.  
  
Disclaimers: Don't own, don't sue.  
  
Chapter 26: Leaving the Woods ~ ~ ~  
  
For the next few days, we began each morning with the same routine.  
  
"Can we leave yet?" Frodo would ask, throwing in the teary sad-eyes for good measure.  
  
"No, it would not be hospitable yet," Aragorn, or sometimes Legolas, would reply.  
  
And then I'd plead with a slightly deranged and very desperate PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAASE!!!!!  
  
And Aragorn would then say something mean, like "Ring! I didn't know you were capable of the word 'please'!"  
  
Does that mean we can leave?  
  
"No."  
  
And on it went. Finally, just when we had given up all hopes of ever leaving the Woods of Lunacy and Boromir had sunken into a deep depression, Aragorn announced that it was time to leave.  
  
Galadriel looked like she was about to cry with we broke the news to her. Ha, psycho bitch deserves it. Serves her right for all those nights I had metal-chilling nightmares about her. She took a deep breath and said "Yes, I suppose you must leave. For your task is tedious, your journey long and treacherous, your path steep and narrow, your resolve strong and valiant, your objective true and righteous, your duty firm and---"  
  
I tuned her out. It was the same old speech, nothing we haven't heard before. When she finally finished, Sam and Gimli were asleep on their feet, Boromir looked like he wanted to cry, and Merry and Pippin were literally vibrating in place. "Are you finished, my Lady?" Legolas asked hopefully.  
  
"Yes," she said with a sniffle. She dabbed at her eyes with a lacey handkerchief. "But I shall see you off on your way. And you shall not leave until I bestow upon you some gifts!"  
  
Oh no. We are not accepting gifts from you. Nothing from the demented toy box of an immortal headcase who wants to kill me, thankyouverymuch.  
  
Aragorn shot me a hard glare. "We will be honoured," he told her. "We plan to leave late this morning, when we have packed our belongings."  
  
"Very well." She disappeared off into the woods, in a flurry of silken robes and blonde hair.  
  
Quick! Let's sneak off while she's not looking!  
  
They all ignored me, of course. Instead of doing the wiser thing and running away, we cleaned up camp instead. We packed up our stuff, then stood near the big river that marked the exit from the Woods. And why were we just standing there, instead of *leaving*? Why, it's because Legolas and Aragorn think it's rude to refuse gifts. Maybe we're really really gracious and totally not-greedy, and therefore we don't accept gifts, hmm?  
  
"Ring, just---Frodo, please tuck him into your shirt," Aragorn said with a sigh.  
  
Frodo did.  
  
Hey, I resent that!  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
And that's all I have time for. Longer chapter next time, I promise. TBC, of course.  
  
About my fanart. Yeah, ff.net has not fixed the URL problem, despite claiming to have done so. So here's what you do. I'm gonna chop up the URL into little bits, and put the bits into brackets. You copy what's in the brackets into your address bar. Do NOT copy the brackets, only what's *in* them, okay? And tell me what you think of the picture. Oh, and for the record, "Matchsticks" is one of my many other pennames---I'm not trying to take credit for others' work. Alright, here goes, for the third time. (http://) (fanart/) (pictures.php?) (pid=47127) There. Hope it works. 


	28. Along the River

A/N: It's my birthday today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I command you all to party!!! Okay, that over with, I have a few matters of importance to address. Firstly, the whole fanart thing. Yeah. The link doesn't work, does it. I'm going to take Chaosti's suggestion and put the link as my URL on my author's profile. Click on that, and then click on the picture labelled "Legolas Spazzes". Secondly, I got my very first flame! Go me! Now I feel like a legitimate writer...with street cred and all! If anyone's curious, you can read it in my reviews---it's by someone who calls him/herself Myler Hill. And third, the "secretary" position has been filled by Manda. Big thank you to her, and to the rest of you who expressed interest (yes, all two of you...). And then, some warm welcomes to those who've just tuned in, as I seem to have sucked a lot of new readers in with that last chapter, for some reason. And in reply to Chaosti's question of "Will Al ever catch a break?", well, I can't give anything away, but nice things are in the forecast for our shiny friend sometime in the near future.  
  
Disclaimers: The following is a work of fiction, and is not intended to infringe upon the rights of any individuals, groups, or mega-corporations, living, dead, or in between. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental, and if you think you know someone in real life who is identical to someone in the following work, please be advised to stop taking hallucinogenic substances.  
  
Chapter 27: Along the River ~ ~ ~  
  
Finally, when I thought we'd never get away, we were officially out of the Land of the Mentally Unhinged. Which meant that my little deal with Aragorn about being nice to her while we were in her territory was *over*. I promptly launched into a long and eloquent speech, the main points of which were 1) We are NEVER going back there, 2) NEVER, you hear me? , 3) Galadriel is a fucking psycho, and 4) NEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Are you quite finished?" Frodo asked me when I calmed down some.  
  
Yes. Please let me out.  
  
He obliged, pulling me out of his shirt and letting me breathe some fresh air, finally. I could now see that we were in a canoe on a grayish kinda sludgy-looking river, no doubt full of pollutants and mutated fish with five eyes. To our right were many trees, and to our left were...well, many more trees. How very scenic. Well, the view was no good, so I looked around to check out our canoe instead. Not surprisingly, we were with Aragorn, but what, no glossy-haired arm-candy?  
  
"We put him in that canoe over there," Aragorn said. (I found it a little sad that he knew exactly who I was talking about.)  
  
I looked over to the canoe he indicated, and---You put Legolas in a boat with Gimli?!?!?!?!  
  
"I'm Frodo's designated guardian, and Sam insists on being near Frodo at all times. The other two hobbits are attached at the hip, and Boromir was adamant about being with hobbits...he seems to have developed an unhealthy fondness for them. I wouldn't have put him with them, except he can't be trusted with my dear Legolas, and he would team up with Gimli and eat all our supplies. Therefore, this arrangement is the best we could come up with. Besides, there's the chance that Legolas will kill Gimli, and that would be one more problem solved."  
  
Sometimes, Aragorn's logic amazes me.  
  
We drifted down the river in silence for a while. It was almost relaxing, really, kind of peaceful and tranquil. The soft sounds of the water rippling, the gentle motions of the canoe bobbing up and down, and the occasional birdcall were---  
  
"I hear something in the forest," Legolas had to say, interrupting my one moment of calm. Can't I have at least ONE moment?!?!  
  
"Wait, I think I hear something too!" Sam said, looking around. Great. Thank you, Legolas. Your paranoia is apparently contagious.  
  
I didn't know if Aragorn was paranoid also, or if he just wanted to appease his elf-bunny, but he got everyone to paddle faster. Before long, we reached some sort of opening thing with two big stone figures on either side of it.  
  
"It is The Argonath," Aragorn told everyone in hushed tones. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old."  
  
I eyed the two statues. 'Kings of old'? Dude, your country's real old, isn't it? You've gone through two *whole* kings?  
  
I was the only one not impressed with the statues, though. Everyone else was all "oooooooh," as we passed through the gate thing. Pfft, only the uncultured can be so easily impressed.  
  
Beyond the big gate thing lay a long stretch of water, and beyond that was a large waterfall. And beyond *that* (what, I have good eyesight...) was a big lake. Under the instructions of Aragorn, we landed ashore for a rest. He then told us his plan. "We shall cross the lake at nightfall---" Because, y'know, it's not hard enough in the daylight, he has to up the challenge by doing it in the dark. He ignored me and continued with his plan. "---We shall hid the boats and carry on on foot. We will approach Mordor from the North."  
  
Gimli made a derisive (and rather ugly) snorting sound. "From the North? Do you realize that we shall have to cross miles and miles of rugged wasteland, with prickly dead bushes and sharp rocks and not a living thing in sight? After that, we would have to travel on fiery terrain, and heat from the molten lava underneath the ground will melt the very soles of our shoes. Not to mention we would have to maintain constant stealth, for the Eye of Sauron will be watching for us."  
  
"Shut up. I'll be fun!" Aragorn said, sounding disturbingly sincere about it. "And why is it that you are not dead yet? Why has Legolas not killed you?"  
  
...Because Legolas has been way too busy suspecting foul play. Look.  
  
Everyone turned to look. Legolas was standing a little bit apart from the rest of the group, peering intently into the woods behind us and frowning. Aragorn went over to see what's wrong, and Legolas pinned him with a stare. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind," he said ominously.  
  
Damn, Wonder Elf, you should really see a professional about this paranoia you have, because you're always worried about something. Like, *always*. First it was those crows, and then voices in the snow, and plus every second minute you're screaming "ORCS!!!!!!!!", and now you've got a thing about shadows. Relax, man. Chill. Pop a sedative. Have some Valium.  
  
"Something draws near. I can feel it," Legolas continued, totally negating my advice. The hobbits start freaking out, and Aragorn knew he had to do something to contain the situation.  
  
Minutes later, Aragorn managed to get everybody calmed down. That is to say, he took Legolas into the woods and shagged the living daylights outta him, so that he forgot everything stopped worrying everyone else.  
  
Boromir and Aragorn pulled the whole rugged and manly thing, gathered some firewood and got a jolly ol' fire going. The Company settled down nicely. A comfortable silence fell over us. Pardon me for waxing sentimental, but there was a bit of a homey feeling there. A little warm and familiar, y'know? Because we'd been travelling together for quite a while, and even though I absolute abhor most of those wankers, they had become a bit like family. A really, really, *really* dysfunctional and incestuous family, but a family nonetheless. And the scene before me had become so normal and regular that I was almost a little tiny techy bit happy. There was Aragorn, his hair showing no sign of drying despite sitting so close to the fire, smoking his pipe. And there were Merry and Pippin, giggling while playing some sort of retarded form of tic tac toe in the dirt. And there was Boromir, watching the two hobbits while licking his lips. There were Sam and Gimli, arguing about how to cook a potato. There was Legolas, perched delicately on a log, meticulously checking his flawless locks for a split end. And then there was of course our dear Frodo, who---  
  
Who got up and walked away from camp, and my small splinter of peace was effectively ruined for the second time that day. What gives, halfling?  
  
"We're going for a walk."  
  
Why?  
  
"We need to have a talk."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC  
  
Hey, don't forget to check out my fanart. You may actually see it after all this time! 


	29. Beside the River

A/N: Horribly sorry for the lateness of this update, but I have several very excellent excuses, most of which centre around school and teachers. There was also the unfortunate business of my dad having to go to the hospital (he's fine now, by the way), plus the fact that I've been practicing for a voice competition coming up in four days (wish me luck!). All that, on top of the bitchy-ness of one school librarian, has made updating rather difficult. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long, though. Also, as many of you will have noticed, we're nearing the end of the first book. STAY TUNED, the next few chapters will hold VERY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS regarding the future of this fic.  
  
Disclaimers: Subliminal! SJGPSWEDNiMOIWHdon'tWOIHFGMownGKJWOKlordQMCFZPEofXIWtheAIVESrings.  
  
Chapter 28: Beside the River ~ ~ ~  
  
Frodo picked his way through thick undergrowth, not saying anything. Birds chirped serenely in the air.  
  
Look, maybe you're not familiar with what "having a talk" is really like. Let me explain. It customarily involves *talking*. You can't call walking around in a forest conversation, see. Because it's not. Long moments of silence followed by short periods of quiet isn't what people generally mean when they say "Let's talk."  
  
Frodo ignored me. "I've been thinking," he announced.  
  
Geen, I hope you didn't hurt yourself doin' that...did you do warm-up exercises first?  
  
"Shut up and listen. What I am about to say will undoubtedly make you very happy."  
  
What? You're gonna gimme a lap dance?  
  
"You have no lap," Frodo observed. "And that is not what we're talking about," he added firmly, not letting me sidetrack him again. "We need to talk about your evilness."  
  
Oh, not this again. Frodo, baby, for the 762 444th time, I am NOT evil.  
  
"I know."  
  
The whole evil powers things is just a story made up by---wait. What did you say?  
  
Frodo smirked. "I know. I believe you. You're not evil. Ring, I've had a lot of time to think during these past few weeks, and I've come to realize several things. Firstly, you have never physically hurt anyone. Well, you've tried to hurt Gimli, but no one can really blame you for that... Secondly, you've never shown any actual allegiance to Sauron. Thirdly, Gandalf the Gray seemed to believe that you're not evil---indeed, you were quite upset at his passing. And fourth, I don't think you have any of the powers of evil that legends of old speak of. You are an animated Ring, but beyond your life and your ability to make people invisible, you do not seem to possess any strong magic. You certainly do not possess the ability to tempt men into evil, as lore suggests. You definitely don't tempt me."  
  
You just had to tack on that insult at the end, didn't you? But I'll ignore that, since I'm so happy right now. I'm saved!!! You finally believe I'm not evil!!! I don't have to get thrown into the fires of Mount Doom after all!!!!!!!!!  
  
"Uh...about that."  
  
Oh no. Do not use that tone of voice, Frodo. I do not like that tone of voice. That's the tone of voice you use when you kick Sam out of your bed. That's your "no, you're not getting lucky" voice. And I don't like it.  
  
"Ring, you have to understand. You may not have evil powers, but since you symbolize evil. For hundreds upon hundreds of year's Man's greed and hate have manifested in desire for you. In order for goodness to win this battle, the symbol of all that is bad must be destroyed."  
  
Thanks. That's. Just. Fuck. Yeah, I feel a lot better now, since you've cleared up the whole matter of my INEVITABLE ASSASINATION.  
  
"Oh, don't be like that, Ring. I'm working on a plan, okay?"  
  
That's really fucking reassuring, Frodo, thank you. Even though I'm perfectly innocent and you know it, I have to get killed anyway. But don't worry, you may or may not think of a plan before my agonizing death occurs. Thanks a million!  
  
Frodo, who had continued walking as we talked, arrived at some old stone ruins half-covered with moss. He sat down on a crumbling old step. "At least now you have someone on your side, right? This is not easy for me either. Hobbits were not made to go traipsing about the country like this. I---" He broke off.  
  
What?  
  
I looked in the direction he was looking in. Oh. Boromir.  
  
Boromir walked towards us with an armload of firewood, looking a little uglier than usual. "None of us should be alone," he said to Frodo, "you least of all." And then he winked.  
  
Ew, is that a come-on?  
  
He came closer.  
  
Ew! It is!!!  
  
Frodo bravely ignored the way Boromir was leering at him. Instead, he said, "I had to have a private conversation with the Ring. I was explaining to it why I believe it has been telling the truth. I believe that it is not evil."  
  
"What?! That's---why, that's *blasphemous*! The Evil Ring has finally gotten to you!" Boromir exclaimed, eyes wide. "Its powers of mind-control were too strong, even for you!"  
  
'Mind-control'? I don't have any powers of mind-control. I mean, yeah, I'm irresistible...but I'm not *that* irresistible!  
  
"The Ring does not have those powers," Frodo said patiently. "In fact, the Ring hardly has *any* powers. It was only through unfortunate chance that its owner turned out to be a dark overlord with a heart of tar and unimaginable evil."  
  
Boromir freaked. "No powers?!?! But of course it has powers! Special powers that I can channel, and use to make me a smoking-hot hobbit love- magnet!!!"  
  
::silence::  
  
"Um, I mean, use to help my city. Yes. ...Oh, just gimme the damn thing!"  
  
He reached forward.  
  
No, Frodo, don't let him get me! RUN!!!!!!!  
  
I'd like it to go on the record that Frodo *actually listened* to me this time. He ran. Unfortunately, his short little hobbit legs were no match for Boromir, who quickly caught him. Boromir tackled him, and there was a short scuffle. Frodo ended up on the ground with Boromir on top of him.  
  
EW!!!!! RAPE!!!!!!!! Get away from us, you dirty child molester!  
  
"Ah ha, I've got you now," Boromir said, eyeing me through a slit in Frodo's shirt.  
  
"Oh no you don't," Frodo muttered, hurriedly slipping me onto his finger. He didn't even need to tell me what to do.  
  
Boromir looked around, confused.  
  
Oh yeah, he forgot to tell you. I do actually have one special power. I can make things invisible.  
  
Boromir searched for us desperately, eyes darting here and there. But we were long gone.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ TBC 


	30. Next to the River

A/N: Hello, ladies and gentlemen. How're you all doing? Sitting comfortably? Good. Because I want your full attention as I explain exactly what will happen to the future of this series. First of all, for those who were worried, yes, I do plan on doing the entire trilogy. (You will, of course, all be expected to stick with me for the entire ride.) However, I don't plan to do the whole thing all as one fic. I still want to try and lure in new readers, and no one's gonna start reading a fic that's like 57 chapters long. Therefore, I'll split them up into three fics. When book/movie #1 is done (which should be in one more chapter, excluding this one), I'll take a short little 2-3 week hiatus---ah, who am I kidding; I take three weeks to update all the time, you won't notice the hiatus at all. And then, I'll be back with the second book/movie as a whole new fic. So for those of you who have this story in their favourites and only check for updates there, remember that the next book will be put up as a different fic. I'll try and tell you exactly when I plan to put it up, so you can all watch for it.  
  
Also, Chaosti had a very good question regarding the name of the Ring. Why Alfonso? Honestly, I just flipped open a baby names book at the local bookstore and picked the first funny-sounding name I saw. I wanted a name that didn't sound too serious, and was a little unbelievable, so that the immediate reaction would be "The One Ring to Rule Them All is called what?!?!" Plus, I've grown to like the Italian flavour of it. And the short form, Al, is kinda cute.  
  
Disclaimers: What's Tolkein gonna do, bitch at me from beyond the grave?  
  
Chapter 29: In the Woods Next to the River   
  
"Ring," Frodo gasped out as he ran, "there's one thing I have to ask you."  
  
Yes, dearest comrade? Ask and I shall answer, because there are no secrets between allies. Everything that I know is at your beck and call, for you are my friend, and I am yours.  
  
"Okay, first of all, you're pouring it on rather thick. Secondly, why is it that I can see Sauron?"  
  
Say what???!  
  
"Sauron. I can see him in my mind's eye whenever I put you on."  
  
Oh, yeah. That. Okay, I have one more secret power to tell you. But after this, that's it. I have no more special powers---you'll know all of them. The last of my powers will be revealed, and you will know everything that there is to know about me. I'll no longer have an advantage. I'll have no more hidden surprises up my sleeve. Once I reveal it, you will know my magical properties in their entirety. I'll have---  
  
"Are you planning on actually telling me, at some point?" Frodo inquired politely.  
  
Hey, can't you see that it's a little difficult for me? I'm working up to it.  
  
There was an awkward pause.  
  
"Will you tell me now?"  
  
Okay. Here it goes. I...have the Palantir-like power to see people, no matter where they are. I can check up on people whenever I feel like it. And not just see them, either; I can hear them, I can see where they are and what they're doing, who they're with...and if I concentrate hard enough, I can talk to them, too. They can hear me. Even if I'm miles away. That's my last hidden power.  
  
"Huh." Frodo had stopped running. We were further into the forest, now, atop some old stone edifices, overgrown with vines and moss. He slipped me off his finger. "So why is it that I can see Sauron too?"  
  
Only when you put me on. I suppose it's like the Palantir thing, again. You can sort of see others through using me, I guess.  
  
"Can I---"  
  
No, you canNOT use me to spy on others while they're undressing. Like, if you still have the hots for Aragorn, there's no way in hell I'm spying on him for you. I don't ever want to have to see him naked---ever. Do you understand me, Frodo Baggins? No using Alfonso for voyeuristic purposes.  
  
Frodo scoffed and looked offended. "That is so not what I was about to ask! Keep your mental excursions to the gutter to yourself, Ring."  
  
Before I could think of a snappy comeback to that, Aragorn appeared. Speak of the devil.  
  
"Frodo!" he cried, sounding mightily relieved. "The Company has been very worried. You shouldn't wander around by yourself! It's not safe to be alone."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Frodo sighed wearily. "I already got that speech from Boromir, thanks. Oh, speaking of Boromir, he's lost it. Gone insane. He went after us with a decidedly abnormal manner just ten minutes ago."  
  
"Us? Oh, you mean you and the Ring. Yes, Frodo, I understand. The power of the Ring has finally overcome his mind."  
  
"Um," Frodo began hesitantly. "There is something we must discuss."  
  
Aragorn looked at him inquisitively.  
  
"I have been thinking about this, long and hard, and I have decided that I should perhaps make the rest of this journey on my own."  
  
What?!?!?! No, you really shouldn't! The only thing that's been keeping us alive is the fact that all the scary monsters take one look at Gimli's face and run away!!! That, and Legolas's arrows. And, okay, Strider's big sword may have something to do with it, too. But the point is, we'll never make it through alive if we go alone!!!  
  
Aragorn looked puzzled. "Ring, I hate to be cruel, but you're not going to make it through alive regardless. The whole point of the journey is to cast you into the fires of Mount Doom."  
  
Fuck you, Ranger. Frodo, tell him.  
  
"Yes. About that. Aragorn, I have also thought long and hard about another matter, and I have come to the conclusion that the Ring does not possess any threatening powers. The Ring is not evil."  
  
TBC  
  
ps- Yes, Aragorn's reaction will have to wait another day, because I really have to go now. But stay tuned for the next chapter...to celebrate the fact that it will be the VERY LAST CHAPTER of the first volume, it well be extra- extra-extra long! 


	31. End of Part I

A/N: So. This is the last chapter. After this, we move onto a whole new series for book two. I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with me through this whole thing, putting up with the lateness of my updates and the longness of my author's notes. Special thanks go out to everyone who has ever taken time to review. And extra special thanks go out to Manda and Chaosti---the first for helping me keep track of everything, and the second for being there since before Al came along. Now, if everyone will kindly direct their attention to my review counter, you'll see that I am at the cusp of reaching 200. Please help me reach the big two-oh-oh: for the love of Tolkein, REVIEW!  
  
Additional notes: I'll never understand why ff.net does what it does. Whatever it is they've done this time, they've made it so that I can't use like half of the symbols anymore. There will be no more of those wiggly thingies at the end of every chapter, nor will there be asterisks/stars to denote bold words. I'll just be using a lot of dashes and equal signs, now. Damn, and I liked the asterisks, too...equal signs look retarded. I'll be using them for emphasis, though, like =this=. They're better than capitalization, because that looks more like yelling. Also, and I've mentioned this before, but since this is the last chapter, it's a Very Special one. It's long. And...well, that's about it. It's long, and it's damn good, so sit back and enjoy.  
  
Disclaimers: I'm just playing...they still belong to J.R.R.  
  
Chapter 30: End of the First Book - - -  
  
Frodo held his breath, waiting for Aragorn to say something. It was very tense. I would've held my breath too, except I don't have lungs, so that wouldn't have worked out too well. But I digress. Actually, I had plenty of time to digress, because the wet Ranger was taking a really, reeeally long time to respond.  
  
"I had suspected as much," Aragorn said at last, with a heavy sigh and a solemn nod.  
  
...Wait...What?!?!?! What the hell are you talking about, Strider? Has all that water finally soaked through your scalp and drowned your brain? You want to kill me, remember? K-I-L-L. That's why we set out on this long journey. So you can play the "manly hero" and kill an innocent ring. You have not been "suspecting as much," as you claim you have.  
  
"Yes I have," Aragorn countered. "In fact, Legolas and I have been discussing the matter lately. Through out our journey, we have both come to note that you seemed to share some sort of pact with Gandalf. Since his fall into Shadow, we have begun to suspect that perhaps you are not as you seem."  
  
Wait. See, that just pisses me off even more than when people insist I'm evil. What you're basically saying is, "Oh, we've known for a long time that you're not evil, but we haven't said anything about it, and I've continued to lead a group dedicated to your demise." Am I the only one who finds that really, really fucking cruel?  
  
Aragorn sighed. "It is unjustifiably cruel to you, Ring, and for that I am truly sorry. But you must understand that things are not that simple. Even though you have no evil powers, you still represent the epitome of all that is evil in this world. In order to bring peace back to the land, the peoples must see this evil symbolically destroyed."  
  
This is the second time I've heard this speech, and I hate it even more than the first time around. Because it involves me dying, even though my killers know it's pointless. How come things can't be that simple? Why can't you just tell "the peoples" that they've got the wrong idea? I mean, c'mon, you're gonna be king someday, and---  
  
He began to protest, "I will not---"  
  
Shut up, Aragorn. Don't deny it. I read the newspapers. I keep up with politics. I know that you're gonna be king someday. So when you're king, you can just royally decree that I'm not evil or whatever, and then all our problems will be solved!  
  
"The peoples will think that I have been taken in by the influence of the Ring. They will think that I do not want to destroy you, because you give me my kingly powers. There will be those who seek to own that power. Civil war will break out, the land will be torn by conflict. This plan of yours would never work. Besides," he added, "I have no plans to accept the throne."  
  
Okay, first of all, what the fuck is up with your king-denial??? Do you know how many people would give anything just to have the rights to the throne?! What the hell's wrong with you?!?!?! And secondly, I HATE YOU. Not you specifically, of course. That comment was directed at the populated land as a whole. I. Fucking. HATE. Everyone. I hate being their scapegoat, and I hate that they can't solve their own problems, and I really hate that they think killing me is the way out.  
  
I could see that my rant had had an effect on the King-to-be. His expression changed, and he was about to say something, but Frodo interrupted.  
  
"I hate to be a bother, as I can see that this is important, but I really must intrude." He waited until he had our full attention, then pulled out his glowing blue sword. "To quote Legolas, ORCS!!!!!"  
  
Like Pavlov's dog responding to a bell, Aragorn responded to that magic word without a second thought. In a flash, he had his big sword ripped out, ready to spill orc-blood all over the ground. He turned to Frodo, eyes serious. "Frodo, you must leave. Take the Ring with you, and fly."  
  
Frodo looked up at the Ranger, equally somber. "I have to go alone. The others would never understand...especially Sam. He would just think that the power of the Ring has overtaken me. I must go alone and think of a way to save both the Ring and the free world, without having to compromise either one."  
  
I sent a quick word of thanks to all the levels of heaven, hell, and everything in between. Finally, they were coming to their senses!!!  
  
Not too far off, dark forms began to move out from the shadows of the forest. "May good fortune smile down upon you," were Aragorn's parting words, before he turned to engage in his favourite past time: yay, looking rugged and manly while wielding a large weapon and raining violence upon the unfortunate.  
  
Frodo turned and ran. "I feel a little cowardly, abandoning my friends in a time of need," he commented as he ran.  
  
I guess you should've thought about that before you dragged them into this whole 'let's kill the ring' adventure, hmm?  
  
"Right, make this my fault, as though I don't have enough to worry about," he muttered.  
  
Well, it certainly ain't my fault. And I think I have more to worry about than you, thankyouverymuch. At least you're seen as the good guy in popular opinion.  
  
Frodo slid down a grassy hill and quickly hid behind a tree. "I am so not playing the one-upping game with you right now," he said, then tucked me into his shirt. Before I could protest, he shushed me. "This is serious now, Ring. One noise from you could mean death for the both of us."  
  
Well, that shut me up right quick. Frodo carefully peered around the tree's broad trunk. Aragorn was still stabbing away, and Legolas and Gimli had joined him. Legolas looked like he was in a state of absolute bliss, repeatedly plunging his arrows into evil monsters. It made me wonder about what constituted as a date for the two of them. Like, do they go out for romantic, candle-lit dinners where they hunt, stab, and kill their own meat? Or maybe they frequent archery ranges where the targets are all stuffed orcs. Do they ever integrate orc costumes and role-playing in the bed---  
  
"Psst! Frodo!"  
  
I will be forever grateful to Pippin and Merry, for interrupting me before my mind could go down =that= path.  
  
Frodo turned. The two littlest hobbits were tucked into some sort of hollow. "You can hide here!" Merry said to Frodo, delighted with himself for having thought of such a brilliant idea. Frodo shook his head and mouthed "I can't." Merry and Pippin looked confused. Frodo attempted to communicate, in signs and mouthed words, that he had to go on by himself, and that he had to carry the burden of the Ring alone, and that he would reach Mount Doom without their help. Merry and Pippin continued to look confused.  
  
This could take a while.  
  
Finally, they got the general gist of the first part of it. They understood, more or less, that Frodo was going off with no one but me. They also saw that we couldn't escape alive at the moment, because an orc army was chasing us. Merry and Pippin, bless them, weren't awfully smart, but they were brave. They jumped up from their hollow, waving their arms and screaming, diverting attention away from us. Immediately, all the Orcs turned towards them. The hobbits lead them away from us.  
  
"Okay, now I really feel like a coward," Frodo said, getting up and running in the direction of the river.  
  
Oh, not this again. Look, your alternative is staying here, getting stabbed, being responsible for my death, and then being responsible for the war between Sauron and the "Free Peoples" that will undoubtedly ensue.  
  
"Well, when you put it that way..."  
  
Frodo managed to get us all the way to the river without getting shot. He clambered gracelessly into one of the boats and pushed off. I heaved a sigh of relief.  
  
"Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo!" an annoyingly familiar voice grated on my nerves. Sam. I groaned and let out a long string of creative curses.  
  
Just keep paddling, Frodo. Remember, you were going to leave him behind anyway. Just stick with the original plan, and for godsakes, do not stop paddling.  
  
Frodo followed my advice, paddling urgently. Sam ran to the water's edge. "Mr. Frooooodoooooooo!!!" he called.  
  
"Stay back, Sam!" Frodo ordered him.  
  
Nooo!!!!! Ignore him, Frodo, ignore him! You really shouldn't have acknowledged him...he's like a stray cat---feed him once, and he'll never go away. Now that you've recognized his existence, he's gonna keep at it. See?!  
  
Sam had jumped into the river. He swam pathetically towards our boat, arms and legs flailing.  
  
"Sam! You can't swim!"  
  
Fuck, Frodo, don't you know what the word 'ignore' means?  
  
But it was too late. Frodo, seeing that Sam wasn't doing too well (by that, I mean Sam was completely submerged and not breathing...), immediately took it upon himself to do the heroic thing. Christ. Sometimes, he's so predictable, it makes me want to eviscerate myself. Like, do you really have to go and throw yourself into the river in order to rescue someone who's just gonna try to rape you in the future? And more importantly, do you have to drag me with you?!?!?!  
  
Frodo dove deep into the water, with me still around his neck. He grabbed Sam, hauled him into the boat, then climbed in himself. The three of us sat, spluttering, cold and wet.  
  
Dammit, Frodo, I can't believe you just went and did that!!!!! I really did =not= fucking appreciate that little caper in the water. Oh my god, what if I oxidize?!?!?! You really should've just let him drown.  
  
"He's my =friend=, Ring. You can't just let your friends drown."  
  
"Don't waste your breath explaining to the Evil Ring, Mr. Frodo, because it won't understand. It has no friends."  
  
Why you little---  
  
"It's just angry that you managed to resist its powerful Voice," Sam continued, sickeningly obsequious.  
  
Stop sucking up to Frodo! Can't you see he's not interested? He's been resisting your advances since the beginning of this trip, and you know why? Because you're ugly!!!!!!! And you smell bad!  
  
"=I'm= ugly? Have you seen yourself? You don't even have facial features!"  
  
Frodo sighed and rubbed his temples. "Children. Please. I'm already feeling bad enough about leaving the Company behind to fend for themselves. I beg you to give me a few moments of peace."  
  
If you're just feeling bad about that, I can always take a look for you, see how they're doing. And then I shot a sideways look at Sam...ha, I can do telepathic favours for Frodo. Beat that, fat hobbit!  
  
Sam growled, but Frodo was all for it. I took a deep breath and concentrated.  
  
Okay, um, right now, they're killing orcs. Exactly like they were doing ten minutes ago, when we left them. Except...ooh. Boromir just got shot. Dammit, they shot Boromir without me! Okay, so yeah, he's down. Let's see...we've also got your hobbit friends. Oh no. It seems that Boromir's death wasn't entirely a good thing after all---imagine that. Boromir was actually defending Merry and Pippin. Now that he's incapacitated, the orcs have got them.  
  
"What?!"  
  
The orcs. They've taked Merry and Pippin.  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
The orcs---look, Frodo, do you really need me to repeat that? Or are you just lacking something else to say?  
  
"Yeah, don't repeat that. I---I just can't believe that I left my friends to such a fate!" He wrestled with his guilt, then came to a conclusion. "We have to go back. We must help them."  
  
Before I could protest, Sam beat me to the punch. "No, Mr. Frodo! It isn't wise! It's obviously just a ploy...the Ring would do anything to get you to turn from your quest. We must hold true to our objectives!"  
  
Shut the fuck up, Sam. First of all, that's so not true. I don't want Frodo to go back either. I'd rather take my chances out here. And second, I'm not lying, because if I were, I'd make up something ten times better than a kidnapping. Kidnappings are so overdone---I'd be more original, and make up something big and dramatic and convincing. Besides, it doesn't matter whether you believe me. The problem is being taken care of.  
  
"What?"  
  
Boy, that's your new favourite word, huh?  
  
Frodo spared a moment to roll his eyes at me, then said "No, really, what do you mean?"  
  
I mean you don't have to worry about the Merry and Pippin situation anymore. Aragorn and Legolas are off to take care of it. Gimli's tagging along, too. Which, okay, is probably a bad thing, but Aragorn's and Legolas's enthusiasm for the sport of orc-stabbing more than makes up for any inefficiency on the part of Gimli. Oh, Boromir's dead, by the way.  
  
"Wha---" Frodo caught himself. "Um, pardon?"  
  
Boromir. The fucker went and died without letting me watch! And to make sure he's really dead and stays that way, Aragorn strapped him to a raft and sent him off a waterfall. Wise decision on his part, if you ask me.  
  
Frodo looked confused. "I'm sorry, but your narrative is a bit disjointed. You've lost me."  
  
Well sor-ry. You wanna try and take a look with your mind's eye at something several miles away? And through dense foliage, too. I'd like to see you do better.  
  
Sam got ready to snark something in response, but Frodo placed a hand on his arm to still him. He was too distracted by the fact that Frodo was touching—touching!—him to do anything else other than drool. Frodo quickly took his hand away.  
  
"Ring, I am simply asking you, in a civilized and polite manner, to summarize what has befallen our friends in a coherent fashion," Frodo said patiently.  
  
Well, when you ask so nicely, how can I refuse? Merry and Pippin, as of this moment, are tied up in sack cloth and are being carried over the rolling countryside by what is left of the orc army. Meanwhile, our dear Ranger and his elf-muffin are tracking them, and slowly but surely gaining on them. Gimli is trailing behind, for lack of anything else to do. Is it quite clear now?  
  
"Crystal clear. Thank you." There was a pause. "If we could continue speaking to each other like this, for the rest of our journey, I believe we'll get along quite well."  
  
"Or," Sam suggested, "the Ring could just not speak to us at all."  
  
'Us'? As in you, plural? Okay, that can be arranged. I'll just talk to Frodo and ignore you. But only if you promise to ignore me back.  
  
Sam huffed, then discreetly gave me the finger.  
  
It was at that moment, stuck in a small boat with two hobbits (one of which was flipping me off); surrounded by nothing but water as far as the eye could see; the shadow of Mount Doom looming in the distance; that it hit me.  
  
This was gonna be one looooooooooooong trip.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
End Part I ::bows::  
  
ps- Mark your calendars! The first chapter of "Alfonso the Ring: Part II" will be posted on the evening of July the 13th. Don't you dare miss it! 


End file.
